A Game of Central
by champsissy
Summary: The country of Amestris is still struggling to recover from the great war of Ishval. Following through the eyes of five individuals, a story filled with adventure, tragedy, angst, and the true meaning of powers as the lords, ladies, knights, and other characters fight for the throne. There's trouble brewing on the horizon; who will be the one to stop it? (Rating may change)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is a test for the AU story I'm working on. I wanted to test to see if this would get any attention. Please let me know if I should continue or post the rest that I have started writing. Thank you! -Champ_

_Disclaimer: I in no way own Fullmetal Alchemist. I only own Alyvia. _

"Alyvia!"

Shoot.

Father was going to snap her neck if he found out she was still outside, still covered in grime and muck. One false footing and her horse had thrown her into the lake. Her body was bruised from the stones she'd landed on, and a stick had cut along her hairline. Her tunic was torn as she let her horse roam loose in the stables, running barefoot towards the large white mansion shadowed by large oak trees. Her toes hurt from slamming against the mud but she pushed through the pain, rushing towards the kitchen door. A young woman with her hair tied back in three long braids raised her brow at the sight of the torn clothes and muddied feet, before shaking her head. "You've got to stop running around before dinner, dear."

"I wasn't running around, my horse threw me." She grumbled, wiping her filthy hands on a wet rag her lady offered to her. She froze midway, glancing up at the woman as the scents of the kitchen hit her hard. Dough and freshly cut meat were being stuffed into the ovens, while the cooks prepared the finest berries collected fresh from the morning. Red wine was being carried from the cellar by the servants in their best clothing; the ladies' hair pulled up in braids that flowed loosely down their backs while the men had tight buns. "Who's coming to dinner?" She asked as she finished wiping her hands off.

"I wouldn't know, dear. Two men, I heard from the cook's wife, but no more." The young woman offered her shoes with a wink. "I shall draw your bath quickly, I presume." She said, leading the sore girl through the kitchen and into the halls of the castle. Alyvia grumped, wishing men didn't have to constantly come by her home and beg for her hand in marriage, or for a business raffle with her father. Though she loved this lifestyle, it grew boring after a while. There was no interest in adventure amongst her elder brothers; the oldest, Jon, was stoic after being lectured constantly about being the next good lord of the castle while the other two, Mason and Hunter, were more cruel and mischievous. The lack of their mother had helped push them over into a more corrupted attitude.

The handmaiden nearly carried her up the grand staircase, protecting the deep scarlet silk from her muddy feet. Another distaste of guests; they required perfection throughout the house, and if there was one thing wrong, one little bit of mud in their sights, they would deny the beauty of the rest of the house and critique the service of the servants. She silently cursed as the handmaiden carried her past her brother's study. Hurry, she begged, as they reached the end of the hall where her room was. As soon as they were shut behind closed doors, she smiled at the thought of a hot bath. "How much time is there until our guests arrive?"

"You shouldn't talk like that about our guests. Who knows? Maybe you'll find interest in one." Her friend said as she drew the water, steaming from the heat. Alyvia smiled weakly, shaking her head. The young woman had grown up as her handmaiden, eight when she was born. Alyvia had known her longer than she had known her own mother. However there was only so much one lady could teach her, one that wasn't her mother nor who cared as much as a mother would. She felt her heart sinking as she stripped and sank into the clawfoot tub. Her mother was a sore subject in her family, even years later.

"I don't plan on marrying someone my father has offered for me." She retorted, scrubbing her skin with the hot water and the sweetest scented lavender her handmaiden could find. The bubbles soaked around her, washing off the stickiest muck and blood on her brow. Her lady frowned at her, confusing her as she tried so badly to relax. She needed time to relax; she didn't want to deal with guests, nor did she have time to impress any right now.

"So you dream of a knight to hold and caress you like a good man should, not only deal with you for children?" Her handmaiden sounded much more deeply in thought that she would have ever believed the woman could dream. The girl had a pleasant look as she prepared Alyvia's dress in the bedroom, setting the orange silk dress on the featherbed. Alyvia frowned, finishing her pleasant bath as her servant drifted off into the thoughts of marrying another man.

"I don't want a knight, but I do want a good man." Alyvia explained, smiling softly as she slid on soft cotton underclothes, followed by the form fitting dress that hugged her curves tightly. A feature she had heard she gained from her mother, as well as her nose and the color of her eyes. There was hardly any memory of the mother she'd been born too; just that she was a pleasant woman whose marriage to her father had gained the family a higher ranking in the social ladder. She turned towards the vanity, trying to ignore the cut on the edge of her hairline.

The handmaiden simply began to fix a braid along the edge of her hair. Alyvia noticed just how truly exhausted she looked as she stared into the mirror. That exhaustion made small ringlets around her eyes before her maiden began putting on the lightest bit of foundation on her cheeks. "I'm sorry you won't have someone to make you feel like you're the brightest gem on your darkest days, milady. It's just a simple fact that your father will most likely need to marry you off to secure relations with a higher ranked man for his money or his land… just like your mother." The lady continued, adding the lightest tone of pink to Alyvia's cheeks.

But she didn't want that. The thought of it all made her head hurt, and the harder she thought about it, the worse her headache became. With a sigh, she turned from the vanity and stared at her friend. "That was out of line." She said, standing and turning on her heel and picking up the hair clip she always wore around guests. The glint of the silver shone against the wall in the fading sunlight as she struggled to fit it into the layers of her hair. Her father had claimed it to be her mother's before the older woman passed, but Mason had bluntly told her that her beloved clip was brand new. Before she could question her father about it, Mason and Hunter both had been grounded for teasing a maid prior to the gifts, and she had forgotten about it as quickly as she could. She wanted at least a small token of her mother other than her looks.

The handmaiden left to finish helping with last minute decorations, much to which Alyvia would take part in in a heartbeat. Instead, opened the balcony doors and stepped out. From her room she could overlook all of her father's property and bask in the last rays of sunlight. The stone was cool beneath her fingers as she stared down the dusty path. Late summer poppies rose at the edges, the bright reds and oranges flowing with the breeze making the entire field look as if it were on fire.

It wasn't until she heard the clopping noise of horses' feet against the stones that littered the dirt road did she realize the smile on her face. Her fingers scrapped along the rock holding her high above the ground. How desperately she wished she'd been born a boy; adventure would much rather suit her every need rather than being forced into tight dresses that didn't flow like they did on her handmaidens. With a sigh, she resisted the desperate desire to put her hand against her cheek. As the horses emerged from the tree line, she cursed to herself. Though they wore no chainmail, they rode the King's horses. Knights. One wore a coat made of red, flowing behind him through the breeze. The other had silver clothes that made his shine like the clip she wore in her hair.

Before she could call out to greet them, her brothers and the servants were already there. Even from up high, she saw the mischief gleaming in Mason's eyes, copied by Hunter with ease. Jon was much more patient and kind, but his voice was sturdy as he ordered the servants to take care of the horses. The knights jumped off with ease, the silver knight undoing his cloak and handing them to the grabbing hands who offered to care for them. Alyvia watched impatiently from the balcony; when would they leave this time? Would they stay for another fortnight like the previous guests did?

She jumped at the sound of a voice. "That's the Knight of Iron, Alphonse." Her handmaiden whispered, and it wasn't until now that she realized the woman was still patiently waiting for orders. "He's excelled in most of the work he and his brother have started." Alyvia tore her gaze from her handmaiden and stared down at the men as they greeted her older brothers. As the conversation turned to slight humor, she noticed that the taller one of the brothers—the older, she assumed—had yet to take off his deep scarlet cloak. "And he…he's the Knight of Fullmetal." Her lady continued as she watched the men move towards the door. With a catch of the breath, she realized that she was still staring at the Knight of Fullmetal. With two simple movements, she watched, holding her breath as the man removed the hood protecting his eyes during the ride through the sunset.

The Knight of Fullmetal's golden hair spilled around his shoulders as he reached to tie up the mess. Alyvia flinched at how surprised she felt seeing his hair. "Come along." She ordered the maiden, storming off of the balcony and walking towards the entrance hall. She'd seen long hair before; it wasn't rare amongst the three brothers she had. But everyone she'd grown up with, even the maidens and servants, had been graced with dark hair. Seeing the Knight of Fullmetal was a hard realization as she reached the top of the stairs. He had such unusual hair.

Standing at the top of the stairs, she glanced down at where her father now welcomed his latest guests. It was even more unusual as she saw the candlelight glinting off the silver of the Iron Knight's clothes. He had a much more flustered color of blonde; not as golden nor as long as his older brother's. Alyvia gulped, feeling her handmaiden nudging her gently against and bringing her back to her senses. Her burly father stared at her, his hand extended in greeting. All eyes were on her; the mischief ones of her two older brothers and the stoic ones of Jon, a glint of brown begging her to say something from her father, the blue in her handmaidens, and the eyes of her guests. "It's an honor to welcome you into our home." She said, rehearsed thousands of times for the multiple guests who had invaded her home.

There was a small inclination of acceptance made by the Knight of Iron as she walked down the steps. The cool stone of the handles against the steps made for a sturdy balance as she tried desperately not to fumble. Her brother seemed deep in conversation with the Knight of Fullmetal; he hadn't even given her a second look since she'd stood at the top of the stairs to welcome them. The Knight of Iron, however, wouldn't let his gaze leave hers, not even for the two boys pestering him. Alyvia wondered if there was such as love at first sight, because it certainly seemed to strike the younger brother.

As rehearsed billions of times, she offered her hand to the boy who couldn't have been three years older than her. He smiled and took it, kissing it with a single touch of his chapped lips, before glancing towards his older brother with expectancy flashing across his golden gaze. Alyvia smirked as he pushed the Knight of Fullmetal in the chest playfully, but the older boy turned to her with a scowl on his face. Alyvia gulped as he lowered his own lips to the back of her hand, as if she were nothing important. He'd probably done it more times than he could count and unfortunately, that made her angry. Why must men always suck up to women? And the other way around as well?

However, when he rose to straighten himself up, she caught sight of his incredibly golden gaze that matched the color of his gorgeous hair. The color was like melted honey, like warm amber or a golden leaf falling in the autumn. She was absorbed by every fleck of darker amber, shown the slightest change in his color. She was absolutely astounded by his eyes that it made her heart lurch when he looked away, his calloused hand falling from hers. What was this feeling? She couldn't even comprehend before her father smiled. "Well, shall we move into the dining hall?" He questioned as she fell in step with her brothers. Mason hit her on the shoulder; annoyed, she hit him back, nearly knocking him to the ground. As he glared at her, she tucked her hands into her lap and moved towards the dining hall with the crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N Again, just a test story. I got bored one night and had a bit of creative demand. If you like it, please let me know. If you don't, please let me know. If you think there could be any improvements towards the characters/storyline/etc, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. M'kay, with love -Champ._

_Disclaimer: Don't own FMA. Just the Catalina family. _

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Dinner went better than she would have ever expected.

The hall was much brighter than the staircase, and it was much homier than the rest of the mansion. The massive fireplace lit up the entirety of the room, the heat from the fire wrapping around her even as the spring air flowed from the opened windows. She watched, almost helplessly, as the men started towards the front of the table, pulling out the long wooden chairs and sliding into them with ease. Slowly, Alyvia pulled her own chair out, ignoring the Knight of Iron's help and sitting down, swooping her dress underneath of her. Food became prominent on the table, the meats and hoards of different breads spreading out like a tablecloth, no spare piece of room laid out in front of them for their own plates.

"I hear your men have been training for a war?" Her father asked, his gaze tight as he stared at the knights greedily dug into their meals. The color that spread across the table from the candles above their heads shone against the Knight of Fullmetal's hair. Alyvia cursed at herself; she couldn't be staring at him again, could she? It was hard to take her eyes off of him, with all of the unusual things he wore or carried. That, and he hadn't said a single word to anyone, not even to her brother.

Tearing at his meat, the Knight of Iron—Alphonse—made time to answer. "Yes, my lord. Another war is imminent, sadly. After what happened in the years prior to our becoming of knights, I was so sure we wouldn't be dragged into another war. And so quickly, too." His golden gaze also met hers, his chapped lips turning up in

Jon looked like he was going to scream, looked like he was going to raise up his own banners and strike a sword through the enemy. His brow was furrowed in frustration, his gaze on his food that he'd barely touched instead of his guests. She wondered whether or not her brother would join in if there was another war. If he did, would he be a good fighter? He could easily take down Mason and Hunter, but a trained knight in the royal army? She wondered if the so called Knight of Fullmetal could defeat him, or how long it would take for her brother to defeat him.

Her own dinner was petite. A basil salad with fresh fruits hidden in the luscious leaves; something her own handmaiden had fixed, something that she disliked immensely. She wanted the meats that the men ate as they stuffed their face. She wanted the same type of ale they drank to wash down their full mouths. She wanted her own freedom, and if it was freedom she desired, she had to get away.

She hardly even realized the Knight of Fullmetal was watching her as she twined the basil leaves onto her silverware, sipping at the red wine in her cup. His head was tilted, his eyes calculating. If he hadn't been smiling, she would have figured he was angry with her. He looked struck by a force that was so calculating, so observant. Alyvia gave him a pressed smile before burying her gaze into the colorful basil as the night sky and moonlight spread over the table.

"A war would corrupt the government," Mason said after his feast was finished and the only thing in his hands was his mug of ale. "It happened like that the last time we went to war." Alyvia's gaze rose, her interest in the subject returning. This was the kind of talk she could stand; instead of prim and proper attitudes as a lady should learn, she found herself adoring the schematics of a battle.

Alphonse took his own sip of drink before setting the mug on the table. He looked completely full as he leaned back in his chair. The grim smile on his face had appeared with the topic. "Ah, but the King is so sure that the war wouldn't destroy us this time. He says that a surprise could contain the fire of rebellion and severely weaken our enemies."

Before she could stop herself, she blurted, "You're both wrong."

A hush fell across the table, everyone in the room freezing with the sound of her voice. The servant pouring her father's drink once more nearly spilled his ale over the top. Her brothers stared at her incredulously, their eyes widening one by one. She felt her face grow red with surprise and shock and cleared her throat subconsciously. Idiot. She was a complete and utter idiot, and she was sure to be stuck in her room again for a longer time than she so desired.

"And you're right."

She jerked at the sound of his voice, glancing across the table where the Knight of Fullmetal sat with his arms crossed. He looked neither surprised nor full, as if he had limited himself to only so much. Alyvia's brow rose, confused, but even more surprised at the sound of his voice. Those had to be the first words he'd spoken, other than his blunt greeting. She gave him a small nod and he returned it, before turning to the still shell-shocked men. As he spoke, she found herself holding her breath. "This government uses wars as a distraction. They send their greatest knights off to do most of the killing while there is a shift. By the time the war is over, the government has shifted and the people hardly care to notice they have a different ruler. Ishval was an exception."

"Brother," Alphonse interrupted, his golden eyes stern. Alyvia broke her gaze from the Knight of Fullmetal's and met the younger brother's wrath. Before anyone could comment on it, however, his smile was back, as if pressed and forced. His older brother was still stoic on the top, his control on his emotion returned.

"May I be excused?" Alyvia asked, even though she wanted to get more immersed in the politics and talk of war around her. There was an obvious lull in the talk with her in the room and she didn't want to keep them from talking, to be a bad host. Her father gave a stern nod, his eyes narrowed angrily. With a gulp she turned back to the guests. "Thank you for your interesting discussion over dinner. I'm afraid it's time I retired for the night."

That wasn't what she was going to do, and Jon knew it. From one simple look in his eyes, she knew he understood where she was going and why she was going to do it. She couldn't stand to be around her father when he hosted guests; he was much more cruel than normal. She stood from the table, brushed off the orange silk that clung to her, and moved out of the room. She wasn't three steps up the stairs when they began to discuss the war once more.

Alyvia had dismissed her handmaiden before her climb and snuck into her room. Even the person closest to her couldn't comfort her when she was angry. Furious, she slid out of her dress and tugged on the leather tunic and pants that didn't contain her, which gave her just as much freedom of movement than she could ever feel. There was a quiet lull in the room as she flung open the balcony door and climbed onto the stone surrounded the balcony. With a heave, she grabbed onto to the stone of the roof and dragged herself up. Her muscles screamed as she felt the bruises she'd acquired from the day earlier make themselves prominent. But, thanks to that exact muscle, she was able to stand on the edge of her world, staring out at the beauty of her home.

It wasn't really something she hated. She loved her family and loved her home. It was just the level of control that had over her. The entire world was at her grasp as she stared out at the world. She could leave. She could take her horse and abandon the family and die a free woman. But she couldn't, at the same time. She was born into a family of wealth and riches, she'd been trained a woman of royalty. Even if it didn't fit her, it was what she was born to do.

"You planning on running away?" Jon's gruff voice scared her more than it should have. She glanced down at him standing on the balcony, leaning against the stone. His eyes were on her, the light from her bedroom casting flickering shadows across his narrow face. Even the color of his eyes was vibrant in the darkness of the night, the brown in the showing no other emotion but sadness. Alyvia tucked her legs underneath of her, unable to meet his gaze. "Come on, Lyv, tell me what's wrong."

"I hate this." She spat, her green eyes meeting his as she slid to the edge of the roof. "I hate the thought of being prim and proper and I hate everything this family has become. I hate it when Father gets pissy because I speak my mind. I hate not being able to do what I want when I want to." The unspoken anger she felt as she hissed at him laced her words, the frustration and anxiety spilling from her lips as the wind ruffled her words away. "I won't run away though. I'm not a coward."

Another stoic silence from her oldest brother, his eyes crinkling in thought. Alyvia cursed in her head. She hated when he got quiet because she always ended up with a lecture about family responsibility. However, this time, he ran a hand through his hair and sighed, his gaze meeting hers once more. Exhaustion poured from around him. "You know I check your room every night before going to bed?"

Confusion spread through her like a wildfire, and intrigued, she hopped off of the roof and onto the balcony railing. Jon flinched, leaning forward to catch her before she fell, but Alyvia trusted her balance and managed to stay straight without his help at all. When he found her standing above him, he smirked- something she rarely saw from him- and shook his head. "Why do you do that?" She asked, swinging her legs onto firm ground.

"Because I'm the most worried you'll run away. You're my little sister. I care too much about you." His smirk changed to the pressed smile he wore around guests. Alyvia's heart fell as the humored glint in his eyes disappeared, and the worn down man she knew to be her brother returned. It was another thing she hated about her home; everything around her was so fake. "It would be different without you around here."

Before thinking, she threw her arms around him. Screw everything in the world. Screw the Knight of Fullmetal and his infatuated brother. Screw her tightly nerved father who wanted to marry her off for his own gains. Screw her handmaiden who would throw herself at the nearest man possible just out of belief that he would love her and protect her. She couldn't stand to see her brother so tired, couldn't stand to see him losing his mind just for her. He was the only one she could stand in this house, and losing him would be the death of her.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Yes, I know it's started off a tad bit slow. I promise it will get better. Thank you for the input! I really appreciate it. Also, the rating might have to be changed in a bit because there's violence coming up._

_Disclaimer: Only own OCS like the Catalina brothers and Alyvia. _

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"Good morning, Alphonse." Alyvia said as she carried in a cup of red wine to place by his meal. The man glanced up, his eyes focusing back on her. His blonde hair was ruffled on one side of his head, his cheek pink from contact on the pillows. A lazy smile came across his face weakly and he willingly took the cup, sipping at the sour delicacy. "I trust your sleep was all right?"

"It's different, sleeping in a bed." He took a bite of pork slathered in white gravy, the sound of his stomach growling carrying just to her ears. She bit back the smirk that would get her questioned, pulling out the chair across from him and setting herself down in it. Her own stomach wanted food as she watched him pile the available food onto his plate, licking his own lips for affect. This time she couldn't help giggle at him—it slipped out without her being able to stop it. "You like humor, do you?" He asked as he sipped his drink, his blonde brow raised in questioning.

"No, sir." She said, cursing at herself for giggling. Her least favorite flaw had to be her uncanny ability to ignore the self-control she'd studied for years and let the freedom she experienced outside the castle walls flow. Alyvia stared at the purple fabric covering her legs, praying that it would only be able to smother her with ease. "I was just—"

"You don't have to lie to me." He interrupted, his smile rather warm. Alyvia shut her mouth softly; it was the least she could do after laughing at him. Alphonse's eyes held her for a long moment, before he returned to eating his pork. "You know, I was rather impressed with your thoughts on the possibility of the war." He said, tearing off a piece and nearly inhaling it. She couldn't contain her surprise; her head snapped up- which hurt her neck, of course—and her mouth fell open before she could regain herself.

"It was wrong of me to outburst." Her own voice sounded monotone to her ears, no matter how surprised she truly felt. Someone actually found her knowledge on the subject impressive, something she had always felt she would never understand. Before Alphonse could answer, the heavy clank of boots rang through the dining hall. The man across from her rolled his eyes, grabbing the cup with ease and tipping his head back to drink it. Alyvia frowned in confusion, her fingers digging into the lavender silk against her legs as she turned to the entrance of the hall, spotting him by the doorway.

"What, didn't save any for me?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. His hair was pulled back in a thick braid, his arms crossed in mock frustration. Alphonse huffed across from her, shaking his head as he returned to his food, his brow pinching in. The Knight of Fullmetal made his way towards his brother, flopping into the seat beside him and immediately pulling at the warm pork in front of him. "Morning, miss." He said without emotion, pouring the white gravy over his meat, his expression full of gluttony.

Alyvia's frown deepened. "Forgive me, but I don't know your name, other than the Knight of Fullmetal." She said, stirring her own food softly. The man brow raised, his cheeks stuffed full with food so that he looked like a squirrel storing food for the coming winter. A bit of gravy drabbled past his lips as he quickly chewed, unable to answer with his mouth so full. She waited patiently, for it was the only thing to do as a lady.

Finally, he swallowed his masses and licked his lips, wiping away the excess gravy. "Ed," He said bluntly before his focus returned to the food sprawled across the table. Ed. Edward, the Knight of Fullmetal. What a common name for such an uncommon man. Alyvia cleared her throat as he headily finished the food on his plate, chugging the red wine without heed. His golden eyes met hers for a brief moment before he snickered and stood. "C'mon Al. We're supposed to be gone already."

"You're leaving?" She blurted, surprising both of them. Ed and Alphonse glanced at her with their eyes wide. Alphonse's face slowly spread into a sheepish smile while Ed stared straight ahead, his right arm tightly on his brother's shoulder. He wouldn't look at her, for whatever reason. Half of her was particularly thankful for that; she didn't know if she could deal with his golden eyes meeting hers with such eagerness to escape the granite walls of her home. "But you just got here."

"Just for the day, my lady." Alphonse said as his smile spread wider, before his brother yanked on his shoulder gruffly. A final look from the lighter blonde boy humored her once more; his cheeks were red with mock fury as his older brother half dragged him out of the dining hall. With receding clanks of boot steps and the awful creaking noise that the castle door made when it opened, Alyvia figured she was in the clear.

She raced out of the dining hall and up the steps, her dainty footsteps light against the scarlet carpet as she rushed, raising the train of her dress to give her faster access to her room. She breezed past her father's study, ignoring the thought of him hearing her, and threw open the door. Her handmaiden sat on the edge of the bed like a trained dog, ready to fetch. "I need you to watch out if anyone should return for me." Alyvia ordered as she threw off the purple silk and tugged on the leather tunic and pants she felt much more comfortable in.

"But my l-lady—" Her handmaiden's eyes were white with fear and anxiety as Alyvia moved through the room, throwing off her mother's clip and letting it land on the pillows with ease. Ignoring the frantic attempts her handmaiden kept making to stop her hurried movements, she tugged her hair into a low bun. "What if our guests—"

"You'll tell them I went to the market like a good girl and claim that I would return before sunset. Which I will." In one quick movement, she fell onto her bed and slid on thick, dark brown boots that were still muddy from the previous night's adventures. She watched her handmaiden's mouth drop in horror as she smeared the dark, decaying mix of leaves and dirt on her white feather bed. Her muscles ached as she slowly attached each of the golden buckles still splattered and wet with thick mud. "If I'm not… well, be creative."

One last item, she realized as she touched her waist. Crossing her room she yanked open her vanity door and pulled out her most treasured item; a sterling silver knife, with black leather covering the handle easily. Engraved into the handle as well was the Catalina house sigil; a mountain lion with three large claws ready to strike, symbolizing her older brothers. It didn't matter that she hadn't been included in the newer sigil; the gift was enough. She attached it to her belt and turned to face the solemn looking individual on her bed. "I won't be gone for forever."

There was no inclination that she even heard before Alyvia was out of the door, rushing to the kitchen. The stairs wouldn't trip her up this time as she moved easily in her leather outfit as she landed, hard, on the edge of the carpet. Her pace quickened as she raced through the castle and main dining hall into the kitchen, where the cooks and servants were cleaning up that morning's breakfast. "Good morning," She said to them quietly as she snatched a loaf of bread and slipped her fingers into the pot of honey.

"Be careful, miss!" She heard as she slipped out of the back door. Her muscles stretched as she licked at her fingers coated in honey. Still full from breakfast, she ran as fast as her legs could carry her towards the stables. The entire field stretched out in front of her as she raced through the long grass whipping at her legs, threatening to leave grass mites in her clothes. The warm late summer sun shone against her back as she made her way closer to the stable. Her beautiful black mare waited for her, her long mane decorated in small purple and red flowers that grew on the vines climbing the walls of the stone stables. "Good morning Temptress," She whispered, petting her horse's nose gently and slowly pulling out the flowers sprinkled in her mare's mane.

Alyvia grabbed the saddle and hitched it onto the back of her horse, tightening it around her friend. She slipped the loaf of bread into the saddlebag before jumping onto the back her Temptress. Her fingers ran through her mare's coarse mane, brushing out the tangles slowly. "Come on girl. The usual place," She said, nudging her horse gently and then smirking as her friend lurched forward, racing out into the field. The grasses would not cut her legs this time as she rode closer and closer to the tree line, hearing the noise of fighting in the distance. Ignoring it, she whipped the reins a little harder, egging her horse onwards.

Easily her horse slipped through the branches blocking the entrance to the thick woods. Alyvia leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her horse's neck. She was extremely thankful she didn't have long hair that would get tangled up in the sticks hanging low from the branches. The extremely long and bare ones lashed out their broken fingers to scratch her exposed arms. Before they could draw scarlet blood like they had the day earlier, her horse yanked to a stop. She nearly flew off of her horse once more, but her grip was tight on her, and when she opened her eyes she found herself in back in her only escape of paradise.

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	4. Chapter 4

Paradise compiled of a beautiful, hidden away place. Paradise, to her, had shown its stunning face with the storm rising around her. It was a safe haven to her. No one she knew understood where exactly she went when she disappeared for the afternoon, not even Jon. It was her place to get away from the world when she needed it most.

The entire piece of paradise was hidden in an entanglement of blooming vines and tangled branches. Petals off of flowers hid the forest floor with their bright faces smiling up at her, the multitude of color something she didn't want to bother. A fresh water pool that remained clean and untouched glittered in the sunlight that peaked past the canopy leaves. Tadpoles and minnows shared the spring in harmony, their movements scurried as her shadow fell across the stream. Alyvia smiled, finding her favorite crook in the rock and pulling at the bread she'd brought with her. Though it was late summer, the sourest blackberries and raspberries waited to be picked and eaten in simple bites.

Her horse nickered and nibbled at the greenest grass she'd ever seen. Though no animals appeared for her like they did for the princesses in the storybooks, she could hear them around her. Deer hopping over tangles of vines, birds singing their routine song in the air; there was a multitude of life surrounding her. The footsteps of a small animal to her left, probably trying to reach between the surrounding thorns to grab at the berries, the slow splashes that frogs made going for the insects circling the pond. There wasn't anything she couldn't do in her piece of heaven.

Full from her midmorning meal of bread and a few of the sweetest, fresh picked fall raspberries, she settled in the heat of the sun spreading around her, breaking past the canopy of thick summer leaves as the world awakened around her. She yawned, still tired from her midnight excursion, still sore from running through the moonlight and only stopping when she couldn't breathe anymore. The laziness she felt was beginning to take over her, as much as she didn't want to admit it. She wasn't much for sloth, just a tired lady who had spent her night roaming through the plains under the stars rather than sitting by the candlelight and sewing until her fingers bled.

She slid off of the crooked rock and onto the soft green grass beside it. Her fingers tangled in the strands of grass, smelling the deep, earthy scent under her head. It was an automatic lull, she found, as her thoughts betrayed her into staying away and turning to that of full sleep. She didn't want to nap for most of the day, to waste the little time she got in her paradise by sleeping, but it was something she knew she would need if she were to entertain those idiotic guests of hers.

Alyvia felt slightly bad because of them. Edward paid no attention to her other than his support in her limited knowledge of warfare, and he was the one she wanted to know more about. Why was he so incredibly intriguing? What was hidden behind his tough shell? Why was he called the Knight of Fullmetal, and what had he and his brother done to gain knighthood? Why did she want to talk to him more than she should have?

Then there was Alphonse, who made her feel incredibly guilty. He was irrevocably head over heels for her, as was even obvious to her. He had the boyish charm, the innocence, a goofy grin that made him look like he was a child. He was chivalrous in the conversations she'd had with him, but he was like everyone else she met. Fake. As much as she wanted to believe that the boyish charm was his true personality, she had seen cracks in his façade in his utter exhaustion.

Her eyes were growing heavier by the second. She heard her horse neighing by the pond, sipping at the water. She heard footsteps of scurrying animals, for whatever reason. Spooked by a predator most likely. She heard the clank of boots, his boots, but ignored her imagination. Now her mind was playing tricks on itself—it was trying to play a game with her heart and emotions, a game she was unwilling to play. She needed to sleep so that she could rationalize her ideas once more and return to solitude. Maybe she should just become a silent sister—obviously men weren't what she needed in her life.

She woke to the sound of splashing. Drool covered her cheek, her hair sprawled out around her. The sun had moved from beating against her back to shining through the leaves and hitting the pond. Her muscles were stiff, her legs frozen by her side as she yawned, blinking away the sleep that was desperately trying to drag her back into the world of darkness. She shifted, letting her feet regain the most of their feeling before stretching. Her neck popped and she yawned once more, glancing across of the grass and seeing her black mare rubbing noses with a thickly built white stallion, almost an inch taller than the horse. Her body instantly went rigid.

Her mind was a whirl as she glanced towards the pond. There, where the sun caught the water almost perfectly, sat the Knight of Fullmetal with his long blonde hair falling past his shoulders. He continuously splashed water across his face, the millions of dazzling droplets shining against his tanned skin. Alyvia's jaw dropped in surprise and fury, but her expressiveness was lackluster. His cheek was cut, the scarlet blood dripping down his skin. Before it could fall into the pool of water, he splashed another heap of water across his face, the process repeating.

When her awe broke, the rage exploded from her. "What are you doing here?!" She snarled, throwing a pebble at him. He jerked, surprised, as the tiny stone hit him in the temple. His golden eyes went rigid immediately, his jaw clenching. "This is my safe haven! You're not supposed to be here!" She shouted, still furious. She stood from behind the crag, her brows furrowed deep into her forehead.

Almost instantly he recognized her, and if she hadn't been so angry, she would have cared. It wasn't hard to identify her with such a narrow face and button nose, but she had figured the leather tunic would give her a more masculine physique. He stood, stepping forward as if to comfort her, but she screeched in frustration. "Look, I'm sorry I invaded your…safe haven, or whatever. I needed—"

"I don't care what you needed!" Alyvia shrieked, storming to where her horse was. Oh, Father and Jon would kill her if they found her yelling at their guest, but for another time in the night she gave no care. Slinging her saddlebag over the horse's back, she launched herself onto the back on her precious Temptress. A gruff hand grabbed onto her boot and she snarled angrily, kicking his hand away. "You're a fool to think I actually accepted you into my home." She hissed, before yanking the reins and forcing her horse into her canter, leaving him behind in the place she used to think impermeable.

She wasn't even half way back to the castle before she felt hot tears streaming down her face. Unable to focus on the sights ahead of her she pulled her horse to a stop, burying her face into the mare's mane and sobbing uncontrollably. Her back shuddered as the dry heaves raced through her body, her mind failing to comprehend what she'd said to the great Knight of Fullmetal. She didn't care anymore that he was her guest; he could rot in whatever he called Hell for all she cared. Her fingers dug into the coarse mane, until she realized she was flustering her horse and she stopped. The tears no longer spilled, even though she still felt as emotionally drained as she had when her mother had died. Slowly, she pulled her horse's reins and pushed her forward.

Whatever he was doing, she hoped he wouldn't be at dinner tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

She was tempted to leave once more in the middle of the night on the back of her Temptress and ride into the darkness to never return, to leave this utterly simple life behind. Every one of her morals of family and honor had been thrown into the wind like the dying petals on autumn trees. She was wrong to feel this way, absolutely and mortifyingly wrong. Yet it was the hope of adventure that planted this thoughts in her mind and watered them, letting them grow like vines and entangling them around her every thought until she couldn't believe what was right or wrong anymore; past the trees, past the barriers that held her captive within the stone walls of the Keep, was a world full of mysteries and dreams to be answered by her.

Her escape wouldn't be easy—she'd need some of her father's bountiful riches if she were to sneak something in. Then the guards sworn to protect her and her family at all costs would fight to drag her into the prison she called a home. She had enough trouble going on midnight rides without them spotting her and telling her to go inside as she quickly thought up an excuse. Sleepwalking was her most used excuse, and the guards believed her. But it also raised the thought amongst the superstitious idiots that she was insane and that sleepwalking would end the castle's wonderful reign.

She would need food too. Food to sustain her until she got to wherever she was going. She had been away from the castle more than enough times to know that she couldn't just bring a loaf of bread and survive for days on end—at least, not comfortably. Then again, comfort wasn't what she wanted to invest in. She would need to pack her saddlebag to the brim, and even then she would need more. Two loaves of bread, a bottle of red wine, cheeses of any sort. She wouldn't take any meat—she wouldn't let maggots become attracted to her food. Berries were common along the paths so bringing those wouldn't add to her advantage, just take more space.

Her fingers hurt as she scribbled the lists of what she needed onto thick parchment paper, her words hardly readable in the scurried writing she scrabbled down. She still had to attend dinner, even though she'd begged her handmaiden to bring it up to her instead of having to visit the guests in the dining hall. And for all she was worth, for all the money her father kept hidden in his vault, for all the land his banner owned, she was useless to these men. They wanted war and she wanted escape.

But, still, her handmaiden dragged her into the clawfoot tub and dunked her, before dragging her back into the bedroom against the will. Her friend's eyes were alight with rage, something Alyvia didn't understand as she rung out her thick dark hair. On her bed was the worst of the worst dresses—a low cut teal dress decorated with thousands of tiny white stars. It wasn't even the low cut she minded; after thousands of times wearing them, she'd gotten used to her flat chest and made the most of it. It pained her father to have such a shapeless girl in his family but she was thankful for it. Before she could deal with the sight of herself in the mirror, her handmaiden tossed a thin brown cover over the blue.

She didn't even control what the lady did to her hair, but was thankful it was something she was used to. A tight bun while the rest of her dark hair rested in down her shoulders and back. The handmaiden tugged at her hair roughly, emitting a soft whelp of surprise from Alyvia, before pinning her mother's silver clip into her hair. "That's what you get for being late." She snarled, yanking her up and pushing her into the hallway.

Alyvia stood frozen as her handmaiden walked down the stairs. Had her only friend betrayed her as well? Had the Knight of Fullmetal told everyone of the incident in the forest? Her guilt for running away instantly disappeared—if she was going to escape, it was going to have to be tonight. She inhaled sharply, put the fake, forced smile on her cheeks, before following her cruel friend down into the dining hall, where everyone sat waiting just for her.

She noticed that Alphonse had an empty seat beside him that he seemed to motion towards with his eyes. Though she didn't want any part of him nor his brother, it was the safest bet. Her father wouldn't yell at her for being late nor would his idiot brother try to speak with her. She walked towards the seat and smiled brightly at him—extremely fake—before slipping into the hard seat beside him.

The first gazes she caught were those of her idiot brothers. Mason snickered at the sight of her while Hunter easily copied him. The two brats, the two late sons of the Catalina name. She ignored the growing rage that she felt building up in her chest, like a heavy weight pressing down on her body roughly and screaming that she was never going to be good enough. Thankfully, Jon elbowed Mason in the stomach, the pain registering on his face, before his green eyes met hers, worried. If it weren't for him, she would have been gone last night. He was the only one holding her back; everyone else she despised with a passion, but he cared about her, and it was disturbing. If only she could bring him with her—no, terrible idea. He was going to be the Lord of the castle one day, and he couldn't abandon his position as heir of the name to help his kid sister.

She didn't even see her father look at her, as if she were an eyesore to look at. He was already stuffing his face full of the day's dinner. Alphonse glanced at her with utter concern, his head tilted in confusion. She managed to press on a reassuring smile before turning and holding gaze with the food in front of her. Her stomach growled, but she had no appetite. Still, if she was going to disappear tonight, she had to build up her energy.

The conversation was light banter around her. Alphonse poking questions at her brothers, making them think, while Mason recited difficult riddles that seemed to confuse him. Her father ordering more ale to drink rapidly, as he chugged down the most of his drink. Hunter laughing boyishly, still young enough to have a gentle chuckle. Jon asking about battles in the heart of the Capital amongst men. Stories of conquest from around the country as the main course was moved and thousands of delectable desserts covered the table.

Alyvia noticed that the one voice she despised the most had not risen. Her gaze glanced around the darkening table, where sat an empty seat claimed just for the Knight of Fullmetal. Her drunk father caught her looking and rolled his eyes. "The boy didn't come down for dinner." He spat before returning to that of his more righteous and worthy children. Surprised, she glanced at Alphonse for explaining. His blonde hair fell in the way of his eyes, tight lips hiding his distaste for the lack of his brother's presence.

"He didn't feel well. I'm afraid I might have roughed him up today." Jon explained, breaking her train of thought. Alyvia met his gaze, surprised at his answer, before nodding once. That explained the cut on his face he had been so focused on washing off that it poisoned her water. Once more in Jon's eyes, there was fear, fear she would leave. He must have realized that something sour had occurred between the two of them and he was scared.

She cleared her throat. "May I be excused?" She whispered, glancing towards her father nervously. He was clear inebriated and she couldn't stand to be around him when he was like this. His dark gaze gruffly dipped once, thankfully, and she inhaled sharply. Pushing back her chair, she stood before feeling a calloused hand on her wrist. Her eyes instantly flew to the golden ones of Alphonse. Concern once more filled them.

"Don't go near my brother." He whispered under his breath while the boys nudged each other, their laughter ringing up to the roof.

Confused and, of course, intrigued, she nodded briefly before he let her wrist slide through his fingers. She turned on her heel and walked out of the dining hall. There was a massive castle and yet, she wasn't quite sure where her father had placed their guests. Still she needed to find him, to knock some sense into him. Then again, she wasn't sure if she wanted to even breath in his presence, as if it were an insult to do so. He wasn't worthy of her speech. She paced back and forth in front of the scarlet steps. She honestly needed to be preparing for her escape in the dead of night instead of worrying about Alphonse's warning.

But, still, she wanted to hurt him for invading her privacy and space. She stopped pacing at the bottom of steps and started towards the more vacant parts of the castle. The drinking room, the north wing, all unused by her and her brothers because of their father's insane worries. The entrance to the crypts. Her father's massive room. The library—the door was open, a red cloak hanging on the handle. She froze mid-step. What was the Knight of Fullmetal doing reading in her father's library?

She peaked around the corner of the door and saw the thousands of books, most of them lining the floor to the middle of a circle. There he sat, his back facing her as he stared at a great encyclopedia. Sliding off her shoes, she set them by the door and inhaled softly; why had she come here? To exchange a few cruel words with him? To smack him around even though he was a well-trained knight? She had no idea why she had come, but she wasn't going to leave now that she was here. Quietly she stepped into the room, as if she were going to set off a trap he'd set just to catch intruders invading his study like her.

Her plan would have been fool-proof if she hadn't smacked a book with her toes and nearly screeched out in surprise. She was so close to him that the book she'd kicked just barely tapped him in the back. Her hands flew to her mouth as she waited for him to jump up and slap her for sneaking up on her like an improper woman, but he made no such movement. Before she could move, a loud snore echoed throughout the library, emitted from one golden haired knight.

He was asleep.

She cursed and turned on her heel once more, storming out of the library before he could wake up and see her spying on him.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N My thoughts and prayers go out to everyone that was affected in the Connetitcut massacre. My prayers are with you. _

"Your shoes, my lady."

She really was an idiot sometimes. Most of the time she could apologize and make the most of her innocence that came from being the teenage daughter of a highborn noble but this time was different. Her silver shoes that she'd left outside of the library were now in possession of a very, very tired looking Knight of Fullmetal, along with his scarlet red cloak. Her stomach boiled with surprised butterflies and hidden anger.

After seeing him asleep in the library, most of the anger and determination she had towards him and leaving had dissipated. Along with the building storm clouds just over the horizon, she knew tonight was not in her favor. The lack of anger had thrown her into emotional turmoil, leaving her to crumble on the balcony and break down into tears. The fat rain drops fell in sync with her tears as the thunder growled, the trees waving in the wind, bending with the force of the gales. The storm whipped at her clothes like she was one of them, a tree in the wind, forming to the gusts that wanted to toss her around like she was nothing in the world.

As the lightning that lit up the night sky with a thousand different colors reaching for the ground with electric fingers she stood. The wind grew stronger, lashing at her hair and untangling it from its bun. Everything in her life was unraveling as the storm grew stronger, a dark cloud of depression moving over her and swirling around her until she was choked to death by the black. She was about to let the light cling to her like a gown and drown in the rain when there was a loud knock on her bedroom door.

She couldn't move fast enough, couldn't struggle out of her soaking wet dress and into a nightgown. She couldn't blow out all of the candles except for one to put on the false appearance of her feigned sleep. Her hair couldn't dry by the time she reached the door and her eyes wouldn't whiten up from lack of tears until she fell asleep for honest. "Coming!" She shouted, her voice nothing but a croak. Whoever her guest was happened to be patient, much to her delight. Most likely it was Jon or her father, or maybe even Alphonse checking on her with concerned eyes.

She didn't expect him.

And here he was, rubbing his eyes like a child just waking from a long night of sleep. His golden gaze was narrowed at the light she held in her hands. Though it was late and everyone else had long settled down for the night, there were faint traces of light behind him, down the corridor he'd traveled to reach her room. In his hands was the pair of shoes that made her look like an idiot for leaving them behind in her blind fury. The lack of emotions made her rub her arm subtly in confusion. Why couldn't he give them to her in the morning? Was this his desperate attempt to make a better apology? Or was he just going to be another idiot who tried to bed her when she felt most vulnerable?

"Thank you." She whispered, unable to meet his gaze as she took them. As she went to shut the door, his hand caught it and wouldn't let it shut fully. Surprised, Alyvia's eyes met his face as he openly struggled with his words. "What is it?" She grumbled softly, her brows pinching into her forehead almost angrily. Almost. The last of her emotion was hardly registering as fury towards him. Her shoulders slowly began to slump, from exhaustion or depression or whatever. She didn't care anymore.

Edward's frown deepened. "I didn't mean to harm you this morning." He explained, his long blonde bangs falling in the way of his eyes, the most expressive part of his body hidden from her view. His voice was stern but not harsh, concerned but not sympathetic. Alyvia watched his shift uncomfortably before he moved his hair out of his face. "I just… I wanted a sip of water. And that was the first thing I saw. I didn't even see you there, nor did I even know you were asleep. Had I known I probably wouldn't have been so…so…."

"Loud? Annoying? Inconsiderate?" She blurted, putting a hand on her hip. Thunder crackled just outside of the castle walls, making the both of them jump. After her nerves unsettled, she was surprised to watch him sigh in defeat as he walked past her, towards the balcony doors and shutting them softly. She huffed as he turned to face her. "Why did you come here? I am not ready to marry yet."

His eyes widened before he full out laughed, throwing his head back. Alyvia frowned uncontrollably, her fists balling up tightly. He was laughing at her? A man shouldn't laugh at a woman unless she intended it to be so! "You think…you think that's why I'm here?" He said as he tried to recover himself, straightening out his shirt collar with a smile. The laughter in his eyes slowly faded before he cleared his throat. "I can assure you I didn't come here to marry you."

"Then why did you bother coming here?" She snapped, confused and surprised.

"Why I bothered? I needed to learn what my next plan was going to be. I needed to study your father's battle techniques from the Ishval war." His words were finally reaching her supposedly impermeable shell. Her frown slowly lifted as it began making sense. The library. The cut on his cheek. Why he had pitched in the dinner conversation when she had mentioned the fault in the government. He was here plainly on business.

Her thoughts turned to Alphonse. "What about your brother?" She asked, crossing her arms, her shoes falling to the floor with a loud clank. His brows rose in hesitation before he faded into his own thoughts, the expression on his face that of recalling his brother's utter infatuation with her. Finally, he chuckled again and shook his head.

"My brother is as innocent as yours." He shoved his hands into his pockets, his eyes shutting softly. "He thinks every girl deserves to be treated as if she were a queen."

"And you?"

"An equal." From underneath his golden bangs she saw his eyes focusing on her. A twitch of his lips brought the butterflies she had first felt when she'd seen him riding towards her home rushing back. "Take you for an example. You're a young woman trapped in a castle when the men are away and you hate it enough to sneak away searching for adventure." He deadpanned, sending shivers down her spine. Gods be damned, he was right on. Unable to comprehend she tugged at the fabric of her gown, wondering why in the world he was that accurate.

Unwilling to let him when that easily, she spoke, "I'm not searching for adventure." She said, feeling confident about her answer.

He had an uncanny ability to prove her wrong. "Yes you are. You're searching for it by wearing a man's tunic and riding your horse into the woods. You sneak out of the castle when no one is watching. You hide in the trees until sunset and then you pretend nothing has happened all day while the boys return. What do you expect someone to believe when you have pricks from berry thorns instead of needles, or when your best boots are covered in mud instead of polished clean?"

"I am not!"

He rolled his eyes, making her grow more flustered by the minute. "As many times as you deny it, you're denying your dreams for adventure. My advice is to wait for it to come to you. Otherwise your chances will pass you by as you search in the wrong place." The Knight of Fullmetal dipped his head to her as he brushed past her and started towards the door. She glanced at him, shell shocked and surprised as he opened the door and readily walked out, leaving her behind in a faze.

"Wait!"

His golden eyes met hers.

Still flustered, she blurted what was on her mind. "How did you gain knighthood?" She asked, staring at her feet in embarrassment. It wasn't something a lady wasn't supposed to ask directly to the knight, an insult almost. She felt her cheeks grow hotter the more she thought about it, focusing so much on her growing embarrassment to miss his footsteps getting closer. The tips of his black boots met her line of vision and she glanced up, surprised.

His head was slightly tilted, a pout on his face. The lack of anger was something she never thought she would feel towards him, but then again neither were the jumping butterflies in her stomach. His gaze held hers for a long moment of silence, the thunder still crackling outside. The only space in between them was the candle that made his face and eyes darken with shadows and colors of many variety. He inhaled softly and she thought he would lean in and close the distance between them with his lips, but he did no such thing. Instead, he spoke, words that left her so shocked that she couldn't breathe afterwards.

"I waited for my adventure to take me."


	7. Chapter 7

The following day was bright and calm after the previous night's massive storm. Most of the late summer trees were bent over from their lashes, a few of them already bare, their leaves lying scattered against the ground. Though the air was nipped with the gentlest chill, Alyvia felt better than she had in a long while. Saturday had finally arrived; a day for leaving the castle and running into town with the servants, to gather fresh foods before the beginning of the week. The only downgrade of her day of allowed freedom was that the Knights and Mason were coming with her.

Her thick dark dress nearly tripped her as she made her way downstairs to where the boys waited for her, their gazes on her every move. "Well, shall we?" She questioned, meeting the golden gaze of Edward without hesitation. There was a moment of silence between the group members before she turned to face her older brother, who looked absolutely appalled by the fact that he was being forced to go into the market. "Come along. The earlier we get there the faster we can be done."

It wasn't common for her older brother to be as submissive to the fact that she was dragging him into town. Although Mason definitely wasn't her first choice as a good family escort, Jon had been studying all morning and Hunter wasn't the best swordsmen of the boys. Watching him turn in an aggravated spin, he started towards the door, followed by the returned stoic personality of the older knight. Alyvia fell in step with Alphonse as they walked into the vivid sunlight. The sky was cloudless as the heat massaged her skin, warming her within seconds. The tips of her toes grew wet with the cool dew hidden from the sun's rays for the moment as her feet made contact with the tiny pebble road.

The stable boys were tightly holding to the reins of her beautiful Temptress. Though she'd grown used to riding saddle style, she wasn't afraid of wearing her dress on her horse. Her fingers ran through the black pelt that her horse fashioned as Alphonse offered her his hand. With an internal grunt, she pitched herself onto the back of her beat, thanking him politely before taking the reins from the boy on the ground. She watched as Alphonse took to a large white mare with muscles the size of her head. "Your horse is very beautiful." She said, pushing her horse towards the mare. "Does she have a name?"

Alphonse's gaze rose, a smile lacing his lips. It was genuine, unlike the pressed smiles he'd worn the previous night at the dinner table. Alyvia thought it looked better on him. "Her name is Allie. I'm not the most creative." His eyes sparkled playfully, his boyish charm obviously in overdrive this morning. She smiled back before glancing ahead at the two boys in front of her as they started into town. Her brother's russet colored horse took the lead, the sunshine making his stallion's pelt appear as if it were on fire. Edward's horse, however, matched the Knight of Fullmetal's description almost perfectly. His own stallion was grey with dark hooves and mane. "Ed's horse doesn't have a name. He's afraid to get too attached to it."

His words startled her. Edward was afraid of attachment? "What do you mean? Attached?" She questioned as they made their way towards the trees and started down the cobblestone road. The horses' hooves clopped loudly as the two fell behind the crowd of servants and the leaders. Alphonse's gaze drifted off with his smile and she cursed inwardly for bringing it up.

"He's had three horses before. The two prior to the one he has now were named and lost within months of doing so. Killed in battles we had no part in." His golden eyes met hers with an apologetic look. Alyvia's heart plummeted into her stomach in surprise as they rode onwards. How depressing it must be to lose a companion, to lose something you've trained for years of your life. She wouldn't be able to look at another horse if Temptress was killed. "He may claim that he isn't attached to this one because he refuses to name it, but every night or so he takes over a stable boy's position and spends time brushing the mane and such. He loves that animal more than he's willing to admit."

She watched as they rode closer and closer to the village on the hill. Her father owned this place too, and was a good ruler. What the citizens didn't see behind castle walls kept their opinions fresh and completely false of what her father really acted like when she saw him. Still, it helped to have the people of the quaint town loving her and her family. The beautiful townhomes, white and brown with their banners raised to the support of her family, layered the village the farther they rode into the town. The closer she got to the market, the more laughter she heard.

Someone screamed, "Lady Alyvia is here!" which caused even the older Elric to glance back as children she knew well began to run alongside of Temptress. Their laughter rang up between the houses as Alphonse's solemn look faded and he grinned at her. Alyvia pulled to a slow stop, sliding off of her horse still a few blocks away from the marketplace as the children surrounded her. "Good morning," She said, rousing a young dark haired boy's hair with a bright grin. While the people here loved her father, she found herself loving them much more. If she had the choice to, this was the life she would have wished to be born into.

The children easily guided her towards the marketplace were the men had already unsaddled their horses for the day. The Knight of Fullmetal's brows tightened as he watched her approach, his golden bangs falling in front of his honey gaze. Alyvia shrugged at him, before leaning down to one of the young girls clinging to her dress with all of her might. "See those two?" She whispered into the little girl's ears. The dark haired child nodded, her head tilting in confusion. "They're real life knights. Why don't you go tickle them and see if that can take them down?"

For a moment, she was afraid her lighthearted attitude wouldn't spread to the common child before the child laughed and raced to Alphonse's leg. One by one the others followed her, tackling over both of them. Edward's eyes widened in surprise as three or four boys tried hugging him while Alphonse laughed heartily at the little girls tickling him playfully. Alyvia grinned; with them distracted, she could shop in peace. The laughter continued to rise throughout the heart of the village as she moved towards the market.

Before she could even start explore the marketplace, she heard a rally by the bar. Confused, she moved throughout the market, thankful that no one was on her to distract her curiosity. The rally seemed to be growing louder, the grunts and groans of drunken men rising into the sky. No longer could she hear the laughter of the children that she'd heard only moments prior. Her entire focus was on the bar as she emerged from the hidden place into a warzone.

Trash littered the streets, glitter and broken glass underneath her feet as she glanced around. Women with their breasts bare and hanging open for all men to see—whores, her father had called them—rested on the laps of men in a drunk-induced rage. Alyvia wanted to gag at the putrid stench around her as she spotted blood coating the streets. Her eyes widened the farther her fingers dug into her dress, suddenly very confused about this part of the world.

Her gaze fell upon the drunken rally she'd heard from farther away. There, a circle of men twice her size contributed to the blood spill on the cobblestone path. "Stop!" She screeched as they beat a man who lay defeated on the ground, his head sliced open. Why would they hurt a defenseless man? What had he done that was so bad that they would beat him until all of his bones were broken? "Stop it!"

What an idiot.

Their gazes all turned to her in seconds, their eyes narrowed in that same rage. Many of them held glasses full of the strongest ale her father sometimes drank around the time of her mother's death. Her head was spinning from the stench and the fear that raced through her body as they approached, the frowns disappearing into cruel smiles as they grew closer. The stench of alcohol was growing worse as they stepped into her circle. Alyvia was frozen in utter fear; she didn't have any means of defending herself. Her knife rested in the hidden drawer she kept for safe keeping.

The first man lashed out and ripped her sleeve with his gnarled nails. Surprised, she jumped backwards into the burly chest of the man behind her. His fingers instantly grabbed onto her hair and yanked on her bun. She screamed in the severe pain wracking through her head and neck as the men laughed at her, grabbing onto more of her dress and ripping it off of her. She was going to be raped, a word she'd only heard Jon speak of about a battle, and she was scared beyond her wits in as she remained frozen in surprise.

Then, out of nowhere, a splash of blood spilled onto the ground, followed by the rolling man's head. Alyvia gasped out in disgust as the men dropped her, the flash of scarlet red blocking her vision as did the raggedy clothes of the man she'd saved. The Knight of Fullmetal shoved his long, silver blade from some sort of…sword… into the stomach of one of her attackers and twisted, pulling out a fury of blood and skin as he removed his sword and stood over her protectively. His golden eyes were full of fury as her pointed his weapon at anyone daring to lunge at him. Her hands flew to cover herself up as the remaining men screeched in shock, racing away in fear.

After a moment of silence, she breathed once more. Edward turned to her, surprised, before he picked her up gently. His right arm was hard and cold, but it was the only thing she noticed in her panicked, shocked state. "Are you okay?" He asked, the rage disappearing from his eyes as he draped his scarlet red cloak over her gently to hide whatever the evil men had pulled away from her. Alyvia nodded weakly as he carried her out of the trash filled slums and into the marketplace. Her head was still spinning as Mason and Alphonse raced to meet them, their eyes wide with confusion. "She's fine. No one got to her before I did."

Relief instantly spread over Mason's face as he brushed away unshed tears. "Thank the gods," He breathed as he moved the hair out of her eyes. Alyvia was utterly surprised at how shaken he, of all of her brothers, looked. She always thought he hated her with a passion because she reminded him of their mother, but…. Could she be wrong? Could she be loved by all of them? Before she could ask him, he spoke once more. "Let's get her home."


	8. Chapter 8

The summer's light poured in from the balcony doors, the windows streaked with a thousand different colors spreading over the feather comforter draped over her legs. Though the doors were wide open and the chill was spreading much more often than she could bear to think about, she was burning up with a stress induced fever, her body shaking with heat chills. The third morning in bed was taking a toll on her. Alyvia's fingers dug into the down feather pillow, wondering why her perception of the world had changed so drastically in less than a few days. No longer did she imagine the simple life to be that a merchant nor did she want to ever return to the city she had thought to be peaceful and pure.

There was a subtle knock on the door. She glanced up weakly as the door cracked open with the loudest creak in the world. Her ears screamed in annoyance as she sank deeper into the sheets. There appeared her handmaiden with a tray of breakfast; the smell of bacon filled her nose, her stomach growling softly in protest. Yet it wasn't the hunger that confused her—she knew she would be hungry after ignoring dinner and lunch for the previous two days and only eating the foods her lady brought to her in the early morning—but the sight of the two knights standing guard by her door. Alphonse's gaze was completely concerned from what she saw through the crack of the massive door before it slammed shut.

"My dear, please eat something other than your breakfast." Her lady said as she sat the tray down beside Alyvia's bed. Alyvia glared up at her, ignoring the angry thoughts she so desperately wanted to proclaim to the girl who'd been sheltered in the castle her entire life. "You still haven't thanked the two men that saved you." More silence. "It's showing that you're not eating, my dear. Soon enough you'll be so skinny that no one will fall for you." The woman sat on the edge of the bed, her apron rustling up as she did. Even more vengeful thoughts raced through her head as the woman realized that getting through to her was an impossibility. The fact that she'd given the same speech three times each of the three days and Alyvia hadn't answered once should have been a clear sign that she wasn't going to come around soon.

When there was an obvious lack of an answer, the handmaiden tore off and threw down her apron. "Fine. Sit in silence for all I care. I am done with you and your family." She snapped as she stormed across the room, opened the door to slide out of it, and then slammed the door behind her. Alyvia rolled her eyes; the same speech every day as the lady tried desperately to get her to speak. She reached across the bed to grab a piece of the fresh bacon and ripped at the meat with her teeth; at least the cooks had some dignity to give her meat instead of more oatmeal that she despised with a passion. Her stomach thanked at her for the food as she rolled over and buried her face into the pillow.

Today, however, was different from the other two days. Unlike the other two days, the only disturbance she'd had had been her handmaiden and her father. Today must have been her lucky day as she glanced up at the creaking door to see Jon sliding into the bedroom with the man she'd saved, who looked much better now that he was out of the slums. After the rally where she'd nearly been raped, the Knight of Darkness had convinced Mason that the man should be offered a place to stay because he had helped rescue Alyvia. Of course, the shell shocked boy had agreed without hesitation.

The cut on his head was almost fully healed now that she noticed it and it was the only reason she smiled. Jon breathed in relief. "You looked healthier," Her brother said, falling to his knees beside her bed. Alyvia notice the panic in his eyes as his fingernails dug into the comforter. "It's a relief that you're feeling so much better after—"

"Stop," She whispered, her voice croaking after days of disuse. Jon's pupils dilated in utter shock before he quickly recovered, his mouth shutting to form tightly pressed lips. Slowly her gaze lifted from her older brother to the man standing beside her. The fever might have kept her in bed the past few days, but her handmaiden was right. She should have thanked him for assisting the Knight of Knight with her rescue. Alyvia smiled at him, although it was difficult to keep it for long. The lack of a good night of sleep that wasn't tormented by nightmares, the lack of sustaining food, the lack of movement in three days had left her physically exhausted and unable to move. "Thank you…for saving me."

"You saved me, my lady." He said, dipping his head gently. "The name is Claude Franz. You're a very brave girl." There was a moment of silence between all three of them before he cleared his throat. "It's an honor to be rescued by you. I hope you forgive me for dragging you into this mess." His eyes gleamed, a warm chestnut brown making her feel comforted in the midst of the disrupting shock. There was a hidden emotion behind them, but she couldn't quiet distinguish it in her fevered haze. Still she gave another weak smile and turned to the still tight lipped older brother of hers.

"Thank you Jon." A moment of silence between them, the awkward tension spreading with Claude in the room. There was so much she wanted to tell her older brother but couldn't. There were hardly any words. "Jon? Can you tell the Elrics to come here..?" She whispered as the sun gleamed in her face. He slowly nodded, standing gently. He looked so devastatingly tired—there were dark bags under his eyes, he was still tight lipped, and he didn't look like he would sleep for another fortnight or so without worrying about her. Still, he pulled the sheets up to her chin as he tucked her in, making sure she had access to all the fluids she needed.

As the two older boys disappeared out of the room, she heard him motion towards the Knight of Iron for his entry. Alyvia composed herself, tucking her long dark hair behind her ear patiently. Her arms felt weak, her body sore and tormented. No longer would she not eat. She would need to regain her strength, and she would need to learn to defend herself better. The chance of adventure was still there, still high in her dreams.

The two knights entered—Alphonse more quickly than his brother as he rushed to her side, his golden eyes filling with concern while Edward's pace was more lengthy and awkward. She glanced between the two of them, forcing herself not to yawn. "My lady," Alphonse said, falling to his knees beside her. "I prayed that you would be safe and I am quite thankful that you are," Behind him, Alyvia saw Edward roll his eyes at the mention of prayer. She frowned. "It's a miracle that the fever didn't take you. You're lucky to be safe."

"I wanted to thank you for what you did." Her eyes flickered from both of them, even if they lingered more on Edward. He had been the one to jump in and defend her, to slice the head off of the man who had lunged for her body without hesitation. He had been the one to slit the stomach of those who tried to harm her again. He had been the one whose eyes had been full of a rage with her life in such danger. She was talking mostly to him.

"My lady—"Alphonse started, but Edward cut him off.

"We're not staying for much longer." He grumbled, turning his gaze to the sun. Alyvia jumped in surprise. Usually when her guests had announced that they would take their leave, she would have jumped for absolute joy. Had she grown attached to these two? Had the boys saving her life formed a bond between them? She didn't understand it very well, to be honest, nor was she sure she wanted to. "We'll take our leave tomorrow night. It's been nice knowing you, Lady Alyvia." He dipped his head before turning on his heel and walking out. Alphonse gave her one frantic look before nodding softly and racing after her brother.

Shocked and unaware of the bond she had formed with the two of them over a week astounded her, and she whimpered softly, turning towards her pillow. This was obviously another good reason to remain silent for the rest of the day.


	9. Chapter 9

The day after both of the knights left was the day that she was forced back into a dress and asked to perfect her smile. Her father had beckoned her out of the room without a choice, his voice stern as he ordered her handmaiden to make her look like she hadn't been through complete hell the past few days. The older lady had almost dragged her in the bathtub and left her for a long while to soak in the scalding water. Her heart felt equivalently heavy to that of her arms as she lacked the muscle she'd built up before the Elrics had come.

When her hands were pruned, the skin crinkled at the masses of water, the handmaiden returned. The harsh look in her eyes escalated as the woman handed her a bar of lavender soap. Alyvia couldn't help but ask—the woman that had been close to her before the knights had arrived now seemed to hate her with all her heart. "Why do you hate me?" She asked, her voice nothing but a weak croak as the older girl dumped a tub of steaming water over her head, her eyes narrowed at the question. There was a long, long moment of silence, before the handmaiden sighed and turned the other way.

"I do not hate you, my dear." She began drying off her hands with a towel as heated water slowly began to cool. Alyvia shifted uncomfortably, waiting for an explanation with her eyes focusing on the three long braids done down the lady's back. The silence returned before the woman cleared her throat. "I hate everything you stand for. You're a mischievous girl with a depressed counter-personality. You let yourself shine too easily. A lady must always be proper, especially around guests, instead of letting herself crackle to pieces within minutes." With a sharp gaze glared her way, Alyvia caught the vibrant sky blue eyes of her supposed friend, the guilt filling her chest faster than anything she'd ever felt. There was nothing she could say back to that; she was deadpanned and left to the abrupt silence once more. The handmaiden sighed and left her alone to continue her bath while she searched for some rather conservative clothing.

Another annoying factor about the Elrics' departure was that she had to deal with Claude alone. He was a bachelor in waiting, but he was still of lowborn birth. His appetite was that of a thousand starving kings, eating away most of the food the servants set out on the table before anyone in her family could even begin to reach for the foods. Her fever broken and her appetite largely returned, she found it difficult to sneak into the kitchen in the middle of the night because her stomach was empty, when the cook's daughter slept soundly in the chair to keep any rats away from the breads.

Claude was handsome when he cleaned up. He had deep brown hair that looked like the waves of the finest chocolates and sweets she could buy from the lady in town. He had plump lips that didn't overdo themselves on the grid of puffy nor thin. His chestnut colored eyes were full of comfort and warmth, while his humor was off of the charts for any other guests she'd known. He had an uncanny ability to make her smile even though he was a constant reminder of her idiot mistake. And he was easy to talk to; as a lowborn, he didn't expect her to be prim and proper all of the time and liked to speak with ease.

But alongside of his happy go lucky attitude was a man who was scarred beyond repair. He had a photographic memory, it seemed, because whenever they saw each other in the hallways as she appeared from her stupid sewing lessons or the bread kneading lectures, he would almost get down on his knees and thank her for all her assistance. She figured if she asked him to that he would even get so low that her toes would feel the heat of his breath as he kissed the ground she walked on. It was different around her family or handmaiden; when they were nearby he saw her as nothing more as a woman.

Tea time on the second day after the Elrics' departure she swore she was going to die. The previous night full of nightmares had kept her awake until the first rays of dawn shone in her window and scattered their rainbow colors throughout the bedroom. Nightmares, such as the gleam in the man's eyes as he ripped the very dress she wore off of her body and laughed as she was bore naked in front of him. The laughter of the men as they circled around the rich little noble, helpless and as virgin as a babe in the city. She'd woken in a cold sweat with dark rims around her eyes that she swore no amount of makeup could hide.

Her mind had almost been fully cleared from the thought of those terrible dreams as she sipped the steaming jasmine tea, her eyes slowly shutting for a hope of sleep every once and a while. She wasn't surprised when he found her in the sunroom and had his own amount of red wine in a flash the size of her hand. "May I join you?" He asked as she watched him stand in front of the table. Desperate to stay awake and smiling, she agreed and followed him with her eyes as he moved to sit down in the chair beside her.

His conversation started off light—mentions of the weather and how the storm couldn't have been a bigger blessing, news from the south lands as the tension began rising (this made Alyvia wonder how the knights were doing, but his jumpy conversation passed before she could interject)—before it grew more serious. "I don't think I can say thank you enough. It's just…impossible to express how thankful I truly am. I would have kissed you for saving me if they hadn't started attacking you."

"Oh," She said as his expression changed once more. Outside, the clouds seemed to be forming on the horizon, just over the tips of the mountains. She figured another drastic late summer storm was on its way to break more of the trees surrounding the castle. Nervous butterflies formed through in her stomach. "It really wasn't anything."

"You were so brave to offer your life for mine." She hadn't even thought that she would have to deal with this because she never thought that they wouldn't be having a conversation. Still, she smiled at him and nodded. "Tell me. How did you manage to escape so tragic nightmares? Or do they still plague you as your sleep like they do me? Do you still here the drunken ramble as they tore off your clothes? Do you still see the anger in the multitude of their eyes? Do you still see it? Do you?" The more in depth the conversation grew, the louder his voice got, to where she was cowering in fear in her chair, desperate to ignore the rushing back memories.

"That's enough." She heard Mason's voice echo through the sunroom and nearly gasped in relief. "Leave us with our sister." Without so much as an inclination that he'd heard her older brother, Claude turned on his heel, gulping down the red wine as he disappeared out of the room. For a minute, Alyvia sat completely frozen in fear, unable to move until all three of her brothers flooded around her, their eyes of varying color all portraying the vivid fear they felt for her. Hunter nearly slipped as he tried to sit down across the table, which usually would have made her laugh if she hadn't been in the worst mood ever. Mason remained standing while Jon slid into the seat that Claude had abandoned, his hand finding hers and squeezing it weakly. "I can't believe Father wants to marry you off to that drunken bastard." He blurted.

"Mason!" Jon snapped as she asked, "He wants to marry me off?" Fear once more erupted through her every part, her fingers shaking at the thought of marrying a drunk like Claude or her father. She knew that once he was drunk enough, Claude would forget she'd saved him-or he blatantly wouldn't care, and she was frightened to see him like that. A tense moment of silence kept to her brother's furious glares towards the other, the scowls on their faces exploding like wildfire. Jon's hand continued to squeeze hers, harder and harder until she nearly cried out in pain.

When she did, Mason lunged at the opportunity. "You didn't believe that Father wouldn't tell her, did you? She's his priceless gem but even for a lowborn, Claude has access to a lot of money in his land. Father wants to be a good lord, Jon, he's not like you. You want what's best for the family while our insult of a paternal figure wants to sell us off for riches."

"He does not!" Jon snarled, letting go of her hand. "And if he did, who's to say that Alyvia would even go through with the marriage?"

"I'm not going through with the marriage if it requires marrying a drunken bastard!"

"Alyvia!"

"So what, I cursed! I curse all of the time but you idiots are never around to hear it!"

"I'm telling Father!"

"Oh, like our drunken excuse for a father cares that his daughter let the word bastard slip past his lips!"

Alyvia's fists were clenched, her chair knocked over in the weak stance she called firm. Hunter's brown eyes met hers, his lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. Though he was two years older than her, he was the most innocent of them all. When he wasn't copying Mason, he was actually reliable and sweet, but only when their brother wasn't around. Mason, who's tawny gaze was cruel and deceptive, and mischievous most of all, looked absolutely enraged with her outburst, while Jon seemed astounded by her loose lips.

She gulped in surprise as the boys' gazes all fell on her once more. "I don't want to talk about marriage anymore." She blurted, storming out of the sunroom and through the kitchen. She wouldn't be forced into marriage like her mother, nor would she marry a drunk. Alyvia tugged out the clip that held her hair in place and threw it down, storming up the stairs and reaching her bedroom where she could sob in peace.


	10. Chapter 10

She didn't know whether she just had terrible luck or if the chain of events was the beginning of her adventure just like the Knight of Darkness had said. She prayed it was terrible luck as she stared at the fire lapping at her home, swirling around the stones and wood alike as the screams of the men inside echoed through her ears. A warm hand touched her shoulder nervously as she shook with sobs, the tears pouring down her cheeks as the autumn winds lashed against her cheeks. A scarlet cloak draped her shoulders, as if protecting her from everything in the entire world.

It hadn't started out this way. The day had been absolutely gorgeous. No clouds in sight, the sky so blue that it hurt to look at for more than a few minutes. The sun and the air meddled with each other to make the perfect temperature, the heat touching her skin as she lay on the stone balcony, oblivious to the world around her. Three nights ago, the knights had left her with an idiot like Claude and her brothers, to start their own adventure once more. Three nights ago she would have been left in her own personal hell if her dreams hadn't been so dreadfully close.

It was the first night she'd gotten a long rest with no disturbances whatsoever. Her brothers had still been flinching from her outburst by the time dinner came around and passed, her father still locked up in his study. Even Claude, the obnoxious drunk he was, was late for dinner, and when he arrived was so drunk that he could hardly sit up straight. He'd ended up leaving after giving her a dirty glare and she was alone at the table once more. It had been nice. Another plus had been the immense lack of nightmares that invaded her sleep, leaving her snoring into the pillow until she could no longer sleep.

Her handmaiden hadn't even bothered her to come down to breakfast, and while her stomach was hungry, she was too blind to the outside world to care. Her knife whittled across a stick, sharpening one of the ends as she peeled off the bark. A pile of litter lay around her legs as she easily went over the wood, malleable the more she worked with it. The sun had beaten down on her skin as she finished sharpening one edge of the stick and by the time lunch had come around, the entire piece of wood was hardly longer than her middle finger.

When her handmaiden didn't come to get her for lunch, she wondered if she had overdone herself when she'd exploded at her brothers. It wasn't like them to get too grumpy with her and her random outbursts, but she'd called their father a drunken bastard…and they were still loyal to him while her mind was set on leaving and never returning. And as the sun began to slowly sink in the sky, the stick was gone and she'd resorted to reading. There had been no sign of her family all day and she loved it, the fact that they realized she was independent and not a helpless little girl.

Dinner should have come around and long passed, and by then, her stomach was growling and her throat was parched. Still dressed in the clothes she'd worn to bed the previous night, she stood and placed her knife on the vanity. Opening the door, she peaked out into the hallway; silence and darkness. Confused, Alyvia pushed into the darkness, taking the candle from her room. There was no sound of any cooks or servants; no boisterous laughs of her older brothers as they flung pebbles at each other. The only thing she could physically hear was her feet hitting the scarlet carpet as she glanced around, the candle cloaked by the darkness. Curiosity ran rapid through her, outweighing the fear she felt.

As she moved into the dining hall, she had seen that dinner was, in fact, set out for her family. In her father's seat was a man, with dark eyes and shaggy hair. His mouth was coated in the foam of ale as he stared at her, putting a cup to his lips and nearly inhaling the drink once more. Alyvia had watched him raise his hand and hold up a sparkling silver clip encrusted with diamonds, his brow furrowed in his head. "Wasn't right for you to deny me without gettin to know me, was it?" He slurred, his tongue lolling the more he spoke.

She stiffened, her fingers tightening around the candle as he tried to stand, nearly tipping over his seat. As he moved closer, he dropped his cup full of ale and kicked it towards her, his grin growing the closer he got. Alyvia had begged for it to be nothing but a nightmare, begged for the entire day to be changed. But his gaze was so cruel and so familiar that she knew it wasn't her imagination; he was planning on finishing what those men had started over a week ago.

Alyvia hadn't let him, though, as she tossed her candle against his rich, borrowed clothes. The flame caught on his chest and instantly lit up the silk riches, his screams of pain and haunting laughter invading her head the more she tried to escape. His hair lit up in fire, his clothes disintegrating with the flame. Finally, through his pain, his grip loosened and she barely managed to turn away, pulling her skirt up so it wouldn't catch on fire. The rest of the candle hit the floor, lighting up the scarlet rug as if it were the best flame conductor in the world.

As the flame burned off his clothes, she had raced out of the dining hall and up the stairs. "Jon!" She had screamed as she pushed against his door and raced into his darkened room. The windows were open as she raced towards his bed, instantly regretting her decision. He lay on his stomach, as if he were sleeping, but through the edge of the moonlight she saw the scarlet blood coating his sheets and the cloudy green in his open eyes as he lay dead in front of her. "No!" She had cried, tugging at his hair and trying desperately to wake him up. This wasn't right. This wasn't happening.

Tears poured down her face as she hid in his room. There was no telling what happened to Mason and Hunter and her father after seeing what they had done to Jon. She stroked his hair sticky with blood, unable to help the sobs wracking her body. There was a cruel laugh, followed by varying laughter; he'd brought reinforcements. Alyvia shuddered with a final sob, leaning down to kiss Jon's cheek before moving his sheets to cover him up. That's when she had moved.

She'd grabbed his knife and unsheathed it. The laughter continued, the loud cries and chants of angry and lustful men. She cursed angrily as she thought about running back to her room with the men getting closer and closer. With a prayer, she inhaled softly before racing out of Jon's room and towards her own. The entire entrance hall was alight with flames, a group of ten or so men gathered at the bottom of the steps. Claude stood, completely hairless after his clothes and body had been burned almost black. Alyvia gagged at the smell of broiled flesh and picked up her step, sliding into her room. Her fingers shook stuffed a stool under the door handle, praying it would hold for her escape.

She had torn off her dress and thrown it to the ground. A loud bang came at her door followed by the shrill scream of her handmaiden as the images of rape invaded her mind. Alyvia winced forcibly as she slipped on her leather leggings. Before she could slide on the rest of her clothes, the door opened and Claude appeared with his eyes red from the smoke, hazy because of the alcohol. He still had the clip that her mother had left behind, and with three swift steps he had captured her arm and was raking the sharp edges across her chest. "You're a bitch, you know that? A bitch with too many luxuries. A bitch with too many privileges—"

Through the severe pain and captured hands, Alyvia had just barely managed to shove her brother's knife into his shoulder. He'd screamed out in slurred pain, his eyes widening as he let her arms go. In seconds, she had pulled on the leather tunic and grabbed the very knife her older brother had given her, shoving it into her belt before he kicked her in the back. Alyvia had fallen, cursing herself for not killing him when she'd had the chance, as she dug her hands into the rug. Claude grabbed and pulled on her hair, the immense pain racing through her entire being, her screams of pain echoing around her room and out of the door.

This time it had looked as if she were going to die, just like her brothers and father, just like her raped handmaiden who claimed she was a terrible thing to serve. She was going to be still forever and ever, never go on her adventure, never going to complete her dreams. Hot tears raced down her cheeks as the thought of being locked up forever invaded her mind; this wasn't what she wanted at all, this wasn't what would happen if she had any say in it. Fury pumped through her blood as he tried to yank off her clothes again, but she wouldn't let him have her. She kicked him in the stomach with whatever force she had left. Claude had stumbled backwards and hit the vanity with a screech as his head slammed into the glass. Glittering shards caught the moonlight as she saw him black out, and this time she wouldn't stay around for him to wake up.

She raced out of the bedroom and into the hallway where many men alike stood, their hands coated in the jewels and riches her father kept locked away in his vault. Their laughter rose as she appeared, the menacing look filling their eyes. Just like Claude, they, too, wanted to have everything for their own. They were greedy, and evil and mean and envious. She held her knife in front of her, her last form of protection, before a long silver blade came from nowhere and pierced the body of the leader in front, pinning his torso to the wooden wall within seconds.

Her gaze had shifted and she'd spotted the knights within seconds. Their bodies were layered with chainmail as their swords cut deep into the ligaments and flesh of their enemies, their golden eyes marred with anger and fury. Alyvia breathed a sigh of relief as Alphonse raced up the stairs and cut his way through the men, the flames licking at his silver cloak. "Lady Alyvia—"He started, but one of the men raced to pierce his armor. Before the deadly blade could slice through his chest, she shoved her knife into his eye and twisted, but the screams weren't loud enough to satisfy her need for revenge.

She turned to him. "We need to go," She begged, clinging to his arm as the flames lapped up the entire entrance hall, the brightness dizzying to her head. Alphonse had given a single nod before picking her up and carrying her down the steps, the smoke penetrating her lungs and causing her to cough harder than she could ever desire. Before she lost sight of her home forever, she saw him standing at the edge of the stairs, his laughter loud as the roof began collapsing. Her fingers tightened around her knife and she buried her head into Alphonse's shoulder, holding back all the tears and hate and emotion she felt.

Edward was waiting by the two horses, his blade covered in scarlet blood the same color of his cloak. His golden eyes met hers with reluctance. "You came back?" She breathed as the night air was filled by the putrid stench of smoke and burning flesh. He gave a single nod, his stoicism returned full swing. Alyvia didn't know how she could thank him as she frantically looked around. "My horse." She whispered, panic racing through her mind. "My Temptress, where—"But the golden look that he gave her only confirmed the worst of her fears. Her brother, Jon, sliced open roughly from chest to stomach, the others she could only presume sliced open as well. Her home burned, her every possession destroyed save her knife. And now her beloved horse, her beautiful Temptress….

She didn't know whether she just had terrible luck or if the chain of events was the beginning of her adventure just like the Knight of Darkness had said. She prayed it was terrible luck as she stared at the fire lapping at her home, swirling around the stones and wood alike as the screams of the men inside echoed through her ears. A warm hand touched her shoulder nervously as she shook with sobs, the tears pouring down her cheeks as the autumn winds lashed against her cheeks. A scarlet cloak draped her shoulders, as if protecting her from everything in the entire world.


	11. Chapter 11

The subtle lull of the horse clopping slowly against the cobblestone lifted her from her sleep, the exhaustion making her muscles throb the harder the horse moved. Rain pelted her face, leaving thin trails along the soot that covered her cheeks, the clouds dark as they mourned with her for her loss. Candlelight and the faintest hints of morning showed as the women of the town rushed to gather the materials, their gazes fresh, their smiles happy. They couldn't possibly know the truth behind her and her family's untimely death.

She didn't even know where they were. The knights had ridden through the black of night, their only guidance the stars in the sky. Alyvia had cried herself to sleep in Edward's arms as they rode, and when the rain came she wasn't sure how they had managed to ride with her not slipping off. It still poured from hefty grey clouds lingering in the sky, clouds that didn't look like they'd be moving onwards anytime soon. Her head spun as she caught sight of the solemnness in his golden eyes, as if he wanted to fix her pain but couldn't. He could fix a lot of things, she presumed, but a broken heart couldn't be one of them.

"Brother," Alphonse said from beside them on his horse. Alyvia didn't even have the energy to move her head to look at him. "An inn is up ahead. Should we stop?" Even the knights looked absolutely diminished of all hope; Alphonse wore a tight lipped solemn frown with his brother was much more revealing. Her fingers tightened around the scarlet red cloak, still draped over her after the rescue from the castle. Her mind rushed back instantly as she thought of the terrible sight of the scarlet blood that coated her brother's torso, his green eyes open wide. She prayed he'd caught sight of his foul murderer.

There was a low rumble of thunder and Edward grumbled incoherently under his breath. "Yeah, I guess. I would have liked to have made more headway to the Capitol by now, but…." He glanced between her and Alphonse before settling his gaze back on her. There was a moment of tension as she desperately wanted to say something, say that they could continue riding, but her jaw was slack and her mind was dead. He grunted again as they forced their horses to go faster, riding towards whatever inn they'd decided on.

There were stable boys, which made her heart pitch in despair. Had Claude been so cruel that he'd slit the throats of children? Had he tried to recruit them to help kill her family or had he murdered them the minute they refused? Alyvia wanted to be sick, desperately wanted to heave anything that was left in her stomach, but she hadn't eaten anything since the day prior. Her hands no longer shook from the lack of food; instead, a dull, empty weakness lingered in the pit of her chest. She flinched as the Knight of Fullmetal slid off of his horse with her still cradled in the curve of his arms. "Al," He ordered, watching the younger man run over. The thunder rumbled again, and the mud puddles all around them caused Alphonse to slip in his boots slightly. Still, he managed to move to meet her, taking her from Edward and pressing her face against his chest.

The rain began to fall harder, the late summer storm having exploded into full passion so early in the morning. From the corner of her eye she saw Edward helping the stable boys with the two King's horses, patting the nose of his beloved. She whimpered softly at the thought of her Temptress, lying dead against the stable floor with her long black hair decorated with flowers like the stable boys used to do. She wanted more than anything to rush back to her home and lay in the soaking wet mud as she  
stroked the coarse fur of her horse, slowly until she fell asleep by her beloved animal.

As Alphonse pushed into the inn, heat suddenly invaded her sopping wet body. Eyes from working men eating their Sunday breakfasts, the innkeepers shuffling to clean up the messes the hardy men made. Heads were turned in curiosity towards the unlikely pair—a sopping wet girl in the arms of a King's Knight. Silence came over the entire room before one man stood, taller than the rest. "I'm afraid you'll have to go. Knights of the King aren't welcome here." He was bulky, with long grey hair and thick sideburns. His face seemed to be permanently in a frown, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth thicker than the ones he would have were he to smile. His left hand was firmly on a thick hammer like the one her father used to carry around in his days during the war of Ishval.

Alphonse set her down daintily, making sure she didn't waver. "Please," He said, his most honest voice showing through his vulnerable state. Alyvia wanted to beg for safe passing, but she was still too weak and the smell of stench and food mixing was making her stomach roll like a tornado in the summer. She leaned desperately against Alphonse. "We're weak from travel, and she's sick."

"She?" One of the men at the same table as the tall man asked, his black hair spiked and his nose a much more prominent feature. His grin was almost skeptical and slightly worried at the thought that she was a girl traveling with a knight. "Better tell the boss then," His arm tightened around the shoulders of a young, short haired blonde woman beside him, her legs crossed simply as two large, red tattoos marked her face and shoulders. Silence had fallen over the entire group as they stared at her and Alphonse. Alyvia was shaking in her boots, literally, from the cold and fear. Her body was going numb from the lack of heat and food.

The door opened and out slithered a bulky man. He tilted his head at the side of them standing in his doorway. He hardly looked interested at the Iron Knight, yet his gaze lingered on her for more than enough seconds. A menacing grin exactly like that she'd seen on Claude spread across his face as she slinked into the side of Alphonse, desperately wishing for them to all ignore her vulnerable state and his stupid gaze. For a minute, he looked as if he would turn Alphonse away and only accept her, but the loud shriek of the door and the thick clump of boots and his smile faded. "Nonsense," He said as Edward came to stand beside them, his voice pushing through his teeth. "We'll gladly accept knights with a lady in tow."

The man with his arm around the girl's shoulders whined, "But Gree—"

"Nonsense," The man, who Alyvia assumed was their boss, shot him a look with black as obsidian eyes. The tension held tight against the crowd as the group who'd been eating their Sunday breakfast stared him down, but she knew they wouldn't bite the hand that fed them. Their throats were on a rope as they waited for him to continue. "Martel, you're a girl. Take care of our lady guest. Roa, Dol, fix the knights their own room." His smile returned, a cocky smirk as the blonde girl took her hand, smiling almost warmly at her. Alyvia glanced away from her caramel eyes to look at Edward. His lips were tight, his golden gaze meeting hers hesitantly. Before she could question it, the girl dragged her away from them.

As she passed the boss, he grinned at her. "Welcome to the Devil's Nest, girl." His voice, though filled with greeting, also screamed at her that she should be cautious. Once more she glanced back at Edward and Alphonse as the two he'd called Roa and Dol took them by the arms. Alphonse looked as if he were holding his breath in prayer, while Edward looked ready to snap. His hand was on his sword, his brows narrowed, until she managed to catch his eyes as Martel dragged her up the stairs. He almost instantly stopped moving, and she would have seen the retaliation had she not been forced up the steps.

Martel undressed her, tugging off the leather clothes without hesitation and throwing them into a bin. As she tried tossing the scarlet cloak away, Alyvia snatched out and grabbed it. "No." She nearly hissed, holding it close to her chest. The blonde girl tilted her head, confused, before simply rolling her eyes and snatching it from Alyvia to put it on a small bed in the corner of the bedroom.

"So you really are a girl," She said as she helped her into the steaming tub of water. Alyvia smirked weakly, nodding as the water soothed her sore muscles, trying not to fall asleep in the tub and drown herself. Martel smiled at her, handing her a bar of soap that had an almost plain scent. "You're not from around here, are you?" She asked as she saw Alyvia sheepishly running the soap over her hands.

"No." She said simply, before using the soap to scrub off the soot and mud that clung to her body. The feeling in her toes slowly started returning to her, her hands unclenching from their aching fists. Martel smiled as she moved towards the bed where the red cloak and her knife rested. She tilted her head once more, her long and nimble limbs moving to pick up the branded knife. Alyvia flinched as her caramel eyes widened at the sigil, staring at her with shock before nearly falling to the ground. She'd seen the Catalina insignia and expected the truth.

"Lady Alyvia?" She asked, her eyes wide with confusion. Alyvia shrugged softly, her stomach growling as she ran her fingers through her already damp hair. The heat around her made her feel like she was floating in the middle of the stars, the peace as Martel set down her weapon of choice invading her mind. She rubbed her arms with the bar of soap once more, trying not to fall asleep once more. She needed to see if Ed—such a simpler name, and he technically wasn't her guest anymore—and Alphonse were okay. And she needed food; the empty pit in her stomach was growing old.

As she got out of the heat, Martel handed her clothes that fit her almost too well. They were loose and comfortable, and most importantly warm. Martel hadn't spoken another word since she'd found out the truth behind Alyvia's past, except for a polite "Sorry," after accidently bumping into her. Alyvia smiled softly at the thought that they still didn't know about her father and brothers as they walked down the stairs. She knew that one day someone would find out the secret that happened at the castle, but today she couldn't be bothered to think about what would happen after the figured out she was missing. The smell of midmorning lunch swirled around her as she entered the dining room. There, she saw Roa and Dol and an untimely looking fellow with an almost green pigment tinted to his skin. He had ugly age spots and an even larger nose than the Dol.

Ed and Alphonse weren't there.

After seeing how the men had reacted the minute they'd come into the door, she prayed they'd been smart enough to let their differences go. This was a group of bandits; maybe they didn't fight like the group that had nearly attacked her, but these outcasts, this mix of such strange people, were a group of undesirables. She stayed close with Martel as the young woman grabbed a loaf of bread and cinnamon, as well as burnt bacon and a glass of what looked like freshly squeezed orange juice. She wondered why they were being so nice to her and not her knights, but she honestly couldn't think and process with her mind on her stomach. Martel set her down at the table with the rest of the silent men, their gazes on Alyvia like she was the devil herself, come to settle in their nest of women.

As she nearly engulfed the food with quick, unladylike bites, Martel spoke up. Dol had his large arm around her again and looked as if he was claiming territory, his eyes fierce. "You're not to harm this one, you two. She's royalty." _Not anymore_, she thought as the three men (she presumed the green tinted man was male) at the table glanced at her with utter shock. "And you're not to speak about this to Greed. He'll cut our throats if he finds out we're harboring royalty, or the fact that she's the richest in the North, other than those blasted Armstrongs. Think of what this could bring to the Devil's Nest. He'll have our heads for sure."

"You call him Greed?" She asked as she tore of a piece of the bread, her stomach protesting as she continued to stuff her face full of food. She knew they'd had odd names—Roa mostly, she knew of many farmers calling their cows by that name—but Greed was one she'd assumed a bit strange. He wasn't really the most appealing of them either; his cocky demeanor was something she figured he'd gained from control over the four people sitting around the table. The large man twice her size turned to face her, his hand as big as her head. He still had a firm grip on his hammer made of chiseled steel, embroidered with designs. His grey eyes narrowed.

"He's called Greed because he's greedy." His voice was deeper than anything she had ever heard. That and his size made her want to shrink into her seat in fear but she was frozen. "He wants everything. He wants to be the king of the world. He wants the riches your royal family have, plus millions more."

"He wants women to be on his lap all the night and all the day, but he won't disrespect 'em." Dol took over from his much larger friend's speech. Alyvia looked at him, confused as he pressed his lips to Martel's ear. She elbowed him in the stomach and he yelped like a puppy whose tail had been stepped on. She glanced at her plate and grumbled softly at the emptiness, and her stomach groaned, being stretched after a day without food. She wrapped her arms around her torso in disgust.

The familiar clunking of boots came into the dining room as she glanced up from the plate. Both Edward and Alphonse looked much cleaner and relaxed. Alphonse looked tired, his eyes drooping lower and lower on his face. Her brow rose softly as she glanced at him, confused. She could have sworn Roa and Dol were going to hurt them for their knighthood, but they looked the same other than the exhaustion washing over them. Thick purple towels were wrapped around their necks, their blonde and golden hair shimmering in the candlelight. "Food," Edward said, walking towards the bar where the food was. Alyvia smiled softly.

She realized she still hadn't mourned the death of her family, that she was ignoring it by the present. She was too tired to cry and she didn't want to associate the scarlet blood with the color of Edward's cloak. Her fingers tightened around the clothes Martel had given her as the knights sat down beside her. Alphonse gave her a warm smile while his brother stuffed her face. She hardly knew them; she hardly knew their past or their present. But she wanted to know them. She was afraid that she would be left behind in the dust and once again that dream of adventure would be rudely ripped away from her.

Edward's golden gaze met hers as he tore off a piece of bread. And he smiled, warm, lazy, and drawled. But the fact was that he smiled. And she didn't hesitate to smile back.


	12. Chapter 12

**East**

"When will he return?"

"Oh, someday when it is in his greatest thoughts. I believe he thinks of you whenever he has the chance."

"Are you sure? He seemed so distant the last time he was here. It was as if he had his mind on another?"

"You're wrong, my dear. His thoughts were on war and that alone. Listen to your grandmother and soon you will see the truth."

The girl twisted, wiping her hands down the thick scarlet dress she knew was his favorite color, laced with the color of gold she recognized to be the color of his beautiful eyes. She stared out at the countryside in hopes and dreams, there was a world out there, a cradled world she would have loved to have seen before her marriage. She wondered if there was still time, if maybe she could sneak away and dashingly go to the beautiful valley where she'd become so enthralled with. With a sigh, she nodded.

"Yes, Granny."


	13. Chapter 13

"We could go visit Dublith while we're near." Al's eyes were lowered to the paper, his brow focused furiously on the map that the fire mage had given them before their departure from the Capitol. Ed noticed that whenever his brother was studying the map that he was more concentrated, more stoic. It was a war plan and though his brother didn't support warfare in the slightest bit, he loved strategy and making plans that would gain them the upper hand. Whenever they were constantly moving, his younger brother struggled to deal with the fact that their plans were always scattered (Edward's favorite method of attack, to be completely honest). "We could visit Mrs. Curtis and her husband."

"We're supposed to be back in Central by now, Al. We got sidetracked three different times." He left the spot by the table and walked to his bed, kicking off his boots in seconds. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion as he fell to the feather bed they'd given him to sleep in. His legs were sore from the drastic periods of riding and carrying Lady Alyvia all the way to the inn. He hadn't slept in a three nights and it was taking its slow toll on his head. He wanted to sleep more than he wanted to argue with his younger brother on places to visit before their untimely death by that bastard of a fire mage.

He yawned and buried his head under the pillow as his younger brother continued. "It would easily be a day's ride to visit them. Plus, maybe we could leave Alyvia with them. She needs to regain her strength and who do we know better than Izumi to help her through her mourning?"

"No one, Al. Go to sleep." The heat from the fireplace pulsated through the room, a lull to help him into the soft drift of sleep. He needed this; he hadn't slept well after leaving the castle that housed the Catalinas for a week. The fourth night of his discomfort he'd convinced Al that something bad was going to happen—he'd felt it in his joints—and they'd spent that night and the entire following day to reach the castle.

When they'd gotten there, the night had already fallen and he had seen the flames from the tree line. He'd been so right, something he would usually brag that was an accomplishment against his brother, but this was devastating. The northern wing where he and his brother had stayed during their visit had already collapsed, the flames climbing up the walls like poison fingers searching for an entrance. It was e who'd first pushed his horse towards the burning walls while his brother tried to take in the picture, confusion spreading over him like the fire spreading over the granite stone.

The third night had been torture, absolute torture. He thought their luck couldn't get any worse as he had pushed his poor horse to the limit, trying to put as much distance between him and that foul murderer who'd they'd let into their home, an honored guest. He twisted his fingers against the sheets, nearly ripping them through the more he thought about it. He would run his sword through his belly twice before leaving him to die. He would cut the throat and let the blood spill against the lawn. And when he was sure the evil man was good and dead, he would cut off his head and stick it on a spike high above the crumbled castle walls, making sure that no one interfered or got on his bad side ever again.

The heat was getting harder to stand in his long night shirt Roa had given him. He was surprised at the hospitality of the Devil's Nest crew; they were well known bandits with a reputation that even the King knew. Maybe it was the fact that they'd had Lady Alyvia in tow. He thought back over the faces of the vivid personalities as he desperately tried to fall asleep. Martel the Snake had the personality of her surname, slithering, conniving, sneaky. Roa the Ox was that of great stance, with his burly figure that made Ed feel like he was five inches shorter than his actual height. Dolcetto the Dog was loyal to a fault and hyper like one—he was also very affectionate to the Snake at dinner time, gnawing on her ear like it was a fragile play toy. Bido the Lizard, the freak with the green tinted skin like that of his name, slithering and sneaky and gross as well.

There was a knock at the door, gentle raps against the wood. He blinked, listening to Alphonse's drawled footsteps as he opened the door to see their guest. "Alyvia?" He heard and instantly stiffened, yanking the pillow off of his head and propping himself up onto his elbows. Al was right; she stood at the opening of the door with her hands folded. A thin white dress accented her curves and arms, the lamplight accenting the shadows on her face, her hair pulled up in a very loose bun. He felt his brow raising in confusion at why she wasn't asleep so late in the night. "Come in." Al said, holding the door for her.

She glanced around the room until her gaze met his. Her green eyes were acute and vivid, like the fresh life of spring. For a long while they held him captive before she released him to watch his brother. "I'm sorry I came so late. I didn't mean to wake you if I did." Her fingers were shaking, he noticed, as she clung to the satin material of her dress. Al glanced between the two of them with eyes confused, before he smiled softly and turned to face her. His golden eyes flickered in the candlelight.

"Nonsense, you didn't wake us."

_Alphonse Elric, I'm going to break your neck._

He pushed a smile past his teeth before laying his head back on the pillow. Alyvia cleared her throat—one he definitely heard, impatience and annoyance filling the grunt—before turning to his brother with a warm grin that reflected in firelight. Maybe if he hadn't been so distracted, he could have fallen asleep. Now that she was in their room with her stupid forced grins and stupid perky attitude and stupid pretty face—no, he was getting married after the war. He had to remember that. With much hesitation, he rolled over and ignored the heat that was wrapping its scaly fingers around him.

"I never thanked you for saving me." She was talking to Al, not him. So why did that bother him? He groaned grumpily into the featherbed, trying to ignore their petty conversation. She was a highborn lady and he was just a guy who'd gotten lucky in depressing ways. He wondered if he'd even made an impression on her. Not that he cared; she was so infuriating without even trying. The smile on her face that he could easily see past, the cold grin when she was being sarcastic. Green eyes filled with teasing and mischief and everything he didn't stand for. Yet, as infuriating as she was, he couldn't ignore the skip of his heart whenever she spoke, or how she'd smiled back after a long ride, after losing her family to a stupid murderer.

He hated life sometimes.

It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Winry, but it was such a forceful marriage that he wasn't sure if he could deal with the cold fact that he was going to be attached to her for the rest of his life. He wasn't someone who easily settled down—the need to roam was much more interesting than becoming Lord of Resembool and watching other people do his bidding while he set on a decorated throne. He liked Winry. He'd known her almost all of his life. But he didn't like her like that. He'd seen her slowly change from the tomboy he had crushed on as a child to the prim and clean lady who'd been dragged into the world of dresses and crowns and jewels.

"If it's that hard for you to say thank you, then maybe I don't want to hear it." Edward grumbled, trying to get the thought off of Winry. He needed sleep, but his insomnia and attention were getting the better of his mind. Al shot him an angry look, to which he countered with a lazy smirk. If Alyvia were going to get used to the outside world, she was going to have to get used to the sarcasm that echoed with it. He wasn't going to change himself to make her happy; that was what Al did, to treat a lady like a queen. "But, if you're not going to leave until you say your precious apology, go ahead." He rolled over onto his back and put his hands behind his head.

If green was the color of fire, he would be burning. The anger behind her eyes escalated the more and more she stared at him, her jaw clenched, and if she had something to throw at him, she probably would. But, no, her hands were balled in fists, clutching to the thin fabric that covered her legs the more and more her brow pinched in. Yep—he was an idiot. Sometimes it was worth it, but she had lost her family, and recently. She hadn't had the time like him that had lost the only thing that had kept the family together so long ago, to the point where he had become so blatantly grumpy and stoic that even his secrets were hidden in pockets of memory buried deep in his mind. He had replaced it by warfare and battle strategies.

"As I was saying, I was extremely thankful that you saved me from them. It's something I will carry with me for the rest of my life." Even her words were pressed, and she looked as if her barriers were about to break from stress and depression. Her expression was the same as that of the night he'd found her soaking wet from the storm, clinging to the only ounce of adventure she had left. "But as much in your debt as I already am, I have a favor to request from you."

"What is it?" Alphonse asked, obviously. He didn't even give her a chance to explain before he continued. "It is always an honor for a knight to complete a lady's wish." Edward almost gagged at the repetitive words his brother let spill past his lips, rolling his eyes. Even Alphonse was starting to get testy with him and Ed knew if he didn't sleep soon that it would only get worse. Not that he would care what they thought of him, but he didn't want a grumpy rider with him whenever they decided to leave the Devil's Nest.

"I want you to take me with you."

Even he jumped at the sound of her request, sitting up so quickly that his head spun in circles. "You can't—"He started before Alphonse shot him a silencing glare. His own brother looked like he couldn't conform to her request; not that he would. The plan for dropping her off with the Curtis' seemed like the best thing to keep her safe—if anything, Izumi could kill anyone who tried to get to her. The memory of the hurt in her eyes filled his mind once again and he cursed, wondering if this guilt was normal. He didn't want to just abandon her, no matter how annoying she was. Yet they were knights, knights with duties that required killing things for a living. It wasn't that he didn't want her to see that but so soon after her family's death would fill her with a vengeance that could get her in more trouble that she was worth.

"Alyvia, you have to realize that our duty to the King is—"

"I know what your duty is." She interrupted Al without hesitation. Edward's frown grew, his brows pinching inward at the thought of dragging her from encampment to encampment. It would require too much; she'd need a horse since her Temptress was gone, she'd need her own tent for living quarters, they'd need double the food they already had for both them and the horses…it was just too much work. If she had been male, it'd be a much different conversation. "I don't want to have to go on this adventure alone."

"So you'd rather us sacrifice our knighthood to escort you around the entire country just for you to go searching for your adventure?" He felt Alphonse's glare growing intense, but he was on too much of a tangent to care. His own blood was simmering with fury, his temper breaking. "What, are you ignoring the advice I gave you?"

"I did that and my family was murdered!"

"That's enough!" Al shouted, causing them to look at him, still boiling from their argument. "Lady Alyvia, I'm afraid my brother is a bit testy after staying awake for the past three nights. And I'm afraid we will have to discuss our methods before we can take your favor to heart. I'm sorry. But it's not something we can easily accept." His voice was gentle and kind and it only made Ed groan out of exasperation and roll back onto his stomach. He hated the constant reminder that his brother was a gentle caress to women while he was like a slap to the face. He buried his head into a pillow and wondered how long it would take to suffocate himself and if he would go unconscious to avoid this stupid mess.

There was a moment of silence before he heard her speak up again. "Thank you." She whispered, before turning on her heel and walking out of the room. He heard her footsteps through the thin walls as she made her way down. He could have sworn he heard her crying.

"You're an insensitive jerk sometimes, brother." Al said as his kicked off his boots and settled into the bed across the room. Ed shrugged. It wasn't insensitivity. It wasn't that he tried to be a jerk. It was he didn't like taking on too much at once. He didn't like taking care of someone other than his brother. And he didn't like that she was replacing his picture of Winry.


	14. Chapter 14

"You were sleeping again, sir." Riza said as she handed him his tea and three individual lumps of sugar. Roy yawned before moving to wipe away the drool lingering on his cheek—disgusted, he cleared his throat and looked away. His stoic friend handed him a small silver spoon for him to twist and spin his simmering tea. There was tense silence between them as she turned away with the metal tray and set it down on the coffee table in front of a couch, smoothing out her dress. Her soft curves and prominent features shone in the dress that accented her so well, even though he knew she hated it. "Your guests are here."

He wanted to kick like a child, turn them away and take a nap, but he couldn't. People needed him to be the firm leader he wanted to be on the battlefield and in the office. A recent border argument to the east had gotten him in trouble, smacking him in the face as the higher ranks glared at him angrily. It wasn't his fault that the border guards were enraged in their own sort of vengeance after the war in Ishval, but if he couldn't control them, how could he lead a nation under one leader? How could he snatch the throne from the King if he didn't have the full support of the military? He watched as Riza grabbed the men in the office by the ear and nearly dragged poor Havoc out of his office, her firm voice snapping at him as he complained.

His team of supervisors followed Riza out as Havoc made another silly joke, which earned him a smack to the face. Roy smirked, picking up the tea cup and sipping at the heat. He was still exhausted, still tired, and the maps on his desk seemed pointless to study now. He was losing sleep from the constant moving to and from the Capitol city. His body was fatigued; his eyes closing the more he stared at charts and maps the Knight of Fullmetal had sent him. Stupid kid had no chance in running for the king's position if he had the chance, but he doubted Edward would even care. He slowly set the tea back onto the table and invited himself to close his eyes for a moment—it wouldn't kill him to relax for just a few minutes….

Not even twelve minutes later he heard the door creak open and he jerked awake, nearly tipping his cup of tea over. Riza stood with the door open and her head bowed like a proper young lady before he saw his supposed guests entering. There was a soft sigh of the breeze as a burly man entered in long tendrils of a suit, a thick red tie matching the color of his face, looking like it was choking him. Following him was a much more petite woman in deep blue silk, her chest nearly exposed, long dark curls flowing down her back. Blue, blue eyes met his and he was nearly enveloped in so much sadness and depression that his time in Ishval came rushing back within seconds.

As they made their way to stand in front of his desk, he spotted her hands tucked tightly in her lap. Roy's frown increased as he saw lingering scars and fading bruises on her skin, up and down her arms and next to her collarbone. She looked desperate for him to say something, desperate for him to welcome her to his home. "May I help you?" He said, tearing his gaze off of her for just a moment. He couldn't even begin to form proper words of welcome for this set of guests. He thought he was about to freeze under the cold gaze of the man staring at her—it didn't do well for the Flame Mage to freeze—and he stood to ignore meeting either gaze.

"My daughter is very beautiful," The burly man's voice matched his size, deep and thick. There was a long, incredibly loud moment of silence before he continued, his black gaze glaring at the excuse he called for a daughter. Roy noticed she was quivering under her father's harsh gaze, her smile pressed and hinting at the sadness. A cry for help. A soft cry of help. "I would look to propose my daughter to you because of her high beauty and noble status."

Roy nearly jumped in surprise before gulping slowly. Marriage? Marriage…. Maybe it would make him seem like he truly had a heart to give, and not something that was fake and formed. Still, he had no time for marriage, nor did he have time for a woman constantly waiting for him back home with three little lords and ladies running around. He needed to focus on his rise to the top and stay that way. He couldn't afford to lose his goals. As he went to reject the proposal, he saw the sight of her whimpering blue eyes. Desperate, pained, hurting. His gaze met the bruises and scars and another pit of grief filled him. It wasn't even her choice that she should hurt him this way. He figured if he sent her away her father would beat the poor thing for not being beautiful enough when it wasn't even that for the fault.

He sighed softly. "Very well. A marriage will be formed." He said through tight lips. He was such a pushover, dammit, he didn't need this at all. There was a slow look of hope that invaded her bright blue eyes and the smile that came across her face was genuine instead of fake. She was quite pretty when she wasn't hiding behind her father. He felt his own smile growing no matter how cursed he felt. His black eyes turned to the burly man as he stood, nearly tipping his tea over once more. "I'd like to keep her here, though, until the wedding."

"When?"

"When we decide," He said sternly, walking around his desk and taking the man by the arm and leading him to the door. "It will be wonderful to have a woman around to take care of my every need. You can send her items to my home in the Capitol, if it pleases you." There was another moment of astounded silence before he pushed the burly man out of his office and closed the door behind him, wondering if he could bar the doors shut with his fire and how much heat it would require. He put a hand on his hip and slowly, very slowly, turned to face her.

The poor, fragile looking girl appeared as if she were going to cry, breathing in and out heavily as if she was unsure whether to smile or sob in despair. He went rigid as his frown grew, bigger and bigger until he sighed. "I don't want to marry you," He whispered softly. There was another tense moment of silence before the girl—he still didn't even know her name—broke into a smile and raced forward, her thick silk dress nearly catching her up. Without hesitation she threw herself into his arms and began to cry. Roy stood tense and tight against her tight hugs and desperate sobs. "R-R-Riza!" He called, even though he figured she wouldn't hear him.

It wasn't even ten minutes later, the door behind him opened and there appeared his best friend with Fuery close behind her. The squire gave a weak smile to Roy as Riza pried the girl from his arms and took her into her own. Good, he thought, breathing softly as his best friend ran her hand down the young girl's back comfortingly. Though Hawkeye was stoic and instilled fear into their team, she was better at comforting women than he was. She glanced at him in utter confusion—as if Fuery hadn't snuck his communication skills through the walls as soon as possible—before turning to face the girl. "Shh, dear, shh…."

Havoc raced into the room, nearly running into the two women. He was desperately out of breath, panting desperately. A half smoked cigarette clung to the tip of his lips as he leaned over to pant, choking on his own smoke. "Sir…problem…." He said, holding up a letter which passed through Fuery to himself. Roy glanced at the red seal, the seal of a three clawed panther. Confusion spread through him faster than a wildfire as he peeled open the letter and quickly scanned through the words. His heart dropped into his stomach as he read what happened and he almost dropped it out of surprise.

The Catalinas were dead.


	15. Chapter 15

"Do you see me, dear sister?" He was tall, lean, with claws for hands and a long black pelt draping over his shoulders. Just like the insignia that labeled their house, the sigil that had been forever engraved into the handle of her knife. Her brother was that of a panther with three claws threatening to slice her throat in only a matter of haunted seconds. Though she would normally feel fear in the presence of such an atrocity of the massive brother of hers, she felt a numbing pain replace it.

"I see you."

"Do you notice me?" He asked as he crept closer, his green eyes shifting from a midsummer forest to black as night. His bare stomach slowly began to grow charred, as if he was burning from the inside. She noticed it first the more and more his stomach grew, from puckered red to chalky browns. The smell of burning flesh invaded her head and it took all of her—heart, mind, and soul—to hold her tongue and resist writhing in horror and disgust on the ground beside his charcoal body.

"I do."

"Do you see that I am alive and well?" Though it seemed as if he was burning, slowly, slowly, he did appear livelier than when she'd seen him dead on his bed, the scarlet blood pooling around him like a bath, designed to wash every doubt and hate that lingered on the tip of his tongue. He had a casual smirk that made him appear as if he could eat her up in one bite and pick his teeth with her bones. She wondered what she must taste like under the claws of her eldest brother as his hot breath met the skin on the back of her neck. She shivered uncomfortably.

"Yes, brother."

"Do you care?"

"Of course." She felt his breath grow hotter and hotter, like the summer's eve before a storm. The heat built up even worse as his fingers trailed down her exposed back, elongated claws digging into her skin. She gasped out of pain as he picked at her flesh, his panther eyes meeting hers the moment his claws left her skin. His golden eyes were harsh and filled with anger. His brows dipped into the curve of his forehead.

"Then why did you leave me to burn in a fiery pit we used to call our home?"

"I-"

"To escape for yourself? To live while your favorite brother's flesh popped under the intense heat? To laugh in the face of the danger around you?"

"No-"

"Then why did you leave us?!" His claws raked across her chest and face simultaneously, the blood exploding from her face. She fell to the ground in a desperate attempt to shadow herself from the blows her brother threw, but it only made him angrier. His teeth grabbed her by the scruff over her neck and shook her violently, like a ragdoll invented for a child. Any second and her neck would break, if she didn't do anything. Stopping the panther that had become her brother was like stopping the boy who had claimed he could help the lands become the next great kingdom. She kicked and swung and missed by three miles, desperate for her only chance of escape.

"Stop! Stop touching me, you're hurting me!"

_Snap._

She shot up, thick with sweat, to the coals on the fire dimming. The room had grown cold during the middle of the night as she kicked off the sheets and moved softly to the fireplace. Her heart was pounding faster than she would have expected as she softly shoved the kindling and thicker pieces of wood into the embers. The ashes lapped up and stung her fingers and she cursed under her breath as the grey and red sizzled against her skin.

Alyvia rushed to the water that Martel had left the night in any case she would need it and pushed her hand into the icy chill. The burns on the back of her hand slowly began to sooth, much to her relief, as she stood at the dresser soaking her hand. Slowly the stinging pain faded and she sighed, exhausted. The nightmares had been slamming her the three days they had bad in town. Memories of her brothers playing in the battlefield were constantly changed by the fact that they were panthers, big or small. Claude's cruel face as he laughed and cried at her rejection to his marriage proposal. The glimmering eyes as her father sold her off to a man with dark hair and black eyes and the saddest smile she'd ever seen on a man.

She was thankful none of the dreams dealt with the Elric brothers, for she was certain she wouldn't be able to look at them the same if they, too, invaded her nightmares. Not that she had looked at them for three days; they'd been out of town ever since she'd asked them to take her along for the journey. She'd been desperately working with Martel and Dol (which was hard, because they were constantly kissing and groping each other in the middle of every little task). Her hands were raw from incessant washing of the dishes as people came and went. As much as Martel had begged her to just relax in her room until it was time to leave, Bido had insisted that she would be safer if she appeared like a simple maid working to pay off a debt to Greed.

As believable as the story seemed, some people had seemed to question it. Her appearance wasn't dirty nor did she have the regular shape of a lady working hard. Still, the plan had gone accordingly so far and she wasn't going to suddenly blow her cover because of an idiotic mistake. The longer her identity went unnoticed, the more she wondered if her dead family had even been discovered yet.

She shoved on the loose clothes that Martel had given her in seconds and slipped on her boots. Her hand tingled softly from the burns as she opened the door. The hallway was silent; dark as the candles were fading in power. Alyvia felt her stomach twist in fear in memory of the last time it had been this dark unintentionally. The heat around her began to grow intense as she glanced down the stairwell, nearly jumping at the sight of Roa leaning against the bottom steps. Relief poured out in buckets as she started down the steps, before an elongated sword cut through her friend's chest. She gasped, loud, before falling up the stairs in the seconds that the Bull's life poured all over the floor.

Strong, sturdy hands grabbed her by the shirt and yanked her up, another hand protecting her mouth from screaming. Alyvia kicked furiously, her heart slamming against her chest in fear before she heard Edward's low voice whisper, "Stop it!" before continuing to drag her away from the staircase. Her eyes widened when she spotted Dol, with his eyes lowered on Martel crying pitifully against his chest. Her heart leapt into her throat the minute she saw his lower body cut into shreds, just like her brother's had been. Ed moved her away from the sight while Alphonse tried desperately to take care of the sobbing Martel.

"Martel, please," Alphonse whispered to the sobbing girl beside him as she clung to Dol's shirt as if it were the last thing in the world that she cared about. Alyvia's heart ached for her friend as her lover closed his eyes exhaustedly. There was a catch in Martel's breath before she broke into heavier ones, screaming at him to wake up. The screams echoed throughout the room as her friend's heart exploded into despair, and knowing her own experiences, she would never be able to comfort her.

A loud crash came from the first floor, and Edward picked her up, pushing her forward harder than before. "Al, come on! If she wants to die with him, so be it!" He shouted impatiently as he grabbed his own saddlebag and started towards an open window at the end of the hallway. Martel's heartbreaking sobs escalated as she cried for the man she loved dying underneath her hand as Alyvia watched Al let her shoulders go and start towards them. His golden eyes were filled with grief as Ed shoved her out of the window and onto the stable roof. It was slippery from a previous night of rain as she slid carefully to the edge of the stable.

Edward jumped to the ground first and helped catch her swiftly. The Devil's Nest was surrounded by hundreds of men dressed in blue uniforms and furious gazes. Alyvia gulped as she easily reined one of the available horses and pushed herself onto the back, before turning to the knights. "What the hell is going on?!" She hissed between clenched teeth, her heart beat escalating as she did. Alphonse drew his sword with honor—he hadn't spoken one word since leaving Martel—as he settled onto the back of his Allie. Edward's golden gaze met hers hesitantly before a loud crash came through the door of the inn. Out fumbled Greed and his burly body before another man, larger than even his prey, pushed him to the ground.

Alyvia noticed the sigil on his swords before she noticed anything else; a large lion in chains. As his sword rammed into the eyes of his victim, the snarky, loud mouthed jerk who'd taken her in and protected her for a few days, she recognized him easily. "King Bradley," She whispered in surprise, before Edward lashed his reins and nearly dragged her horse along. The sound of the hooves against the cobblestone path as they escaped from the city only added to her horror and distaste, and definite confusion of who exactly these knights of the King's men were.


	16. Chapter 16

Her hands were nearly frozen by the time they reached Dublith. After a long day of riding, her back was throbbing from constant posture and she was about to fall over from exhaustion. A chilly rain had soaked her to the bone once more—it had only been about five nights prior that she'd had the same issue. Still she was happy when the Elrics announced their arrival, even though her mind and heart were heavy with the grief she'd seen in the early morning. She noticed that the knights had been conversing under their breaths the entire ride while she had lingered farther behind and, the farther they'd gotten, the more upset Alphonse looked.

The town of Dublith was small enough to not have a Lord but big enough for a merchant to see fit for commerce. Alyvia had been here once, with her mother and youngest brother. They had dined on fine foods and rich wines. It had been a spur of the moment trip because of her father's sudden desire to take the two older sons on a hunting trip, and she had been incredibly involved with the lifestyle around her. Unlike the town outside of her father's land, Dublith was lively and clean and happy-go-lucky. If she thought hard enough she could still imagine the smell of her mother's raspberry perfume and her brother's calm smile before he grew corrupted by Mason's schemes.

Even in the early autumn rain she noticed that the town seemed unaffected. Lots of young women with little children clinging to their skirts stepped through the muddy paths to purchase the dough and fruits and cloth, as if the rain didn't mean anything to them. Men conversed politely outside of the tavern unlike the last time she'd spotted a bar. Little girls played with dolls on the front porches of their homes while little boys threw leather balls at each other and laughed in joyous time.

Edward kicked his horse harder towards a small butcher shop still in the middle of the town. Outside, an extremely burly man two sizes taller than her swept off the front porch, his skin kissed roughly by the sun. Alyvia noticed Ed pulling to a stop, confusion spreading through her more than she could have wondered. "Sig!" He cried out, unsaddling his horse and pulling his dark scarlet hood down. Alyvia watched as his golden hair grew dark with rain before following him as he and Alphonse both raced to greet the man. The rain continuously seeped through her clothes as she waited for their greetings to pass, her head a dull thump in the cold weather. "It's been too long."

The man she understood to be Sig glanced over their heads in her direction, pinning her with an obsidian gaze. Alyvia froze, unable to move out of surprise and utter fear; he could probably snap her neck within seconds of clasping his massive hands around her throat, could probably—"You let the girl freeze in this rain." He said in a deep, gruff masculine voice. The fear faded to shock and she felt her brow rising. He pushed past the knights to come to stand in from of her, his body acting like a shelter from the rain and cold. "Izumi will be glad to have another lady in the house."

Without her consent, he shot his arms out and swooped her from her legs. Alyvia yelped before he settled her into the curve of his chest, as if she were a child with broken limbs. A glance at the knights and she saw they were just as surprised as she, with two pairs of golden eyes wider than the full moon. Sig lurched forward, protecting her from the pouring rain. "Get those horses inside." He ordered, stepping onto the porch and setting her down daintily. He was rather composed for such a big man as he opened the front door to the butcher shop and allowed her entrance.

Alyvia almost immediately felt at home. Past the front of the butcher shop was a dining room, with a large fireplace and table. The smell of cooking meat and breads rushed her back to her time racing through the kitchens of the castle, snatching berries and pieces of cheese to snack on before dinner. Tart perfume filled the room as the door shut behind her, the chill of the outside world fading into oblivion as the warmth from the fireplace spread throughout the room. Her eyes found glazed ham on the table and she wondered if she could sneak off a shred of the meat without being caught. She was less stealthy than she was mischievous.

A door down the hallway creaked open and she jumped out of her thoughts. A young woman, older than her but young enough to be her mother, emerged from the darkness with her hair pulled back in multiple braids. She had fair skin that did nothing but match the white dress she wore, but her hair was as black as Sig's eyes, and just as beautiful. She was a sight to behold; soft curves with big brown eyes and a mother's smile. Alyvia gasped softly at the reminder of her own mother as the woman's gaze rose to meet hers, confusion filling her gaze. "Hi," Alyvia breathed, gulping in worry.

"Are you a customer?" The woman, whom she assumed was Izumi from the obvious lack of others around, questioned, putting a hand on her hip. All thoughts of the loving, motherly figure she'd pictured for her faded as fast as they had appeared. She slowly shook her head, tucking her hands in the curve of her stomach. This wasn't going any way she had thought it would have been. "Then who brought you?"

"The man named Sig." Izumi's brows narrowed accusingly. What was wrong with her? Had she done something? Had the Elrics misjudged their welcome into this woman's home? "I'm sorry, I'm really not sure what is going on."

Before Izumi could ask, the door opened, letting in another winter chill. Her gaze met that of the burly man named Sig's before spotting the Elrics enter in beside him, soaking wet and stinking of wet horse. Her brown doe eyes widened and she leapt into Edward and Alphonse's embrace, surprised yelps coming from the boys. Alyvia took a hesitant step away from the crowd of hugs, to stand near Sig. Was this their family? They looked nothing like each other at all. Sig was tall, dark, and handsome, while the woman was smaller, paler, and prettier. And the Elrics were as blonde as she had ever seen. There was no way she could be their mother.

After the smiles and hugs were shared, she noticed that Izumi was staring longingly between them and Sig. "It's so good to see you boys again," She breathed exasperatedly, cupping Alphonse's cheek with her petite hand. The younger brother seemed content with it, his eyes shut and his smile genuine. Edward seemed a bit gruffer about it, however; he had a smile and it wasn't pressed, but it was weaker than his brothers. It seemed affection wasn't his strong suit in any matter. "Care to introduce me to your friend?"

Alyvia had assumed she'd been forgotten amongst the three of them, and it appeared the brothers had as well. The surprise registering in Alphonse's eyes and the searching in Ed's was obvious before the older brother cleared his throat. "This is Lady Alyvia, of house Catalina." He said bluntly, his golden eyes flickering in thought. Alyvia almost immediately understood; House Catalina was nothing but a mere shamble of what it once was and she was the only remaining heiress to the name.

Someone put a hand on her shoulder as her heart squeezed in memory of her brother's shredded body. Heiress to a name that he should have kept, that he should have made great. The hand on her body brought her rushing back to the present, glancing at Izumi in surprise. She smiled sadly before wrapping her into a bear hug, squeezing her until Alyvia was sure she heard her bones screaming from distress. Behind her, Edward laughed, something she'd never heard before. Everything around her screamed at her to accept this new family while she could, even though she had yet to mourn for her brothers and father and home. Yet she wouldn't do it.

She couldn't.


	17. Chapter 17

"Heard you're getting married."

Roy grimaced at the sound of his closest friend's voice, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up faster. Of course, he would be the first to find out and, of course, he would be the first to pester him. Green eyes met his in the minute he opened them, spectacles and all. He looked silly with the large glasses on his face that was supposed to help his eyesight, but Mustang wasn't sure. Improving vision wasn't something he felt could be fixed. "It's nothing." He said, feeling the carriage lurch forward as his friend slipped into the seat across from him. Had they stopped? How long had he slept for? And where had Kaitlyn disappeared to?

"What do you mean, it's nothing? Roy, this is wonderful!" His friend's face lit up with exotic happiness before settling into the carriage seat. "It's about time you took a wife into consideration. Maybe you won't even need my help to get you to the King's position." His friend looked smugger than a laughing cat, even though he knew Roy could snap his fingers and broil him within seconds. It was the natural way of things between them—one of them was smug and interested while the other could care less.

"I don't want to marry her," He grumbled unhappily, staring at the seat beside him and wondering if it would be comfortable enough to sleep on. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, the move from the East having tuckered him out more than before. That and the fact that his finest knight hadn't checked in for a week (He'd dragged his team of subordinates out of the town and starting towards the last known location of his knights) and the fact of the Catalina family death in a massive castle fire. He had once visited the family, when he was young and training under the careful eye of Berthold Hawkeye, and he had seen the young girl hiding behind the skirts of her mother at his presence. Though he couldn't remember her name, her green eyes still struck him with mischief in the rarity of his nightmares.

She would probably be around the age of his betrothed, maybe a year younger or so. He still didn't know where Kaitlyn was, though, and the fact of that bothered him. He twisted in his seat. As much as he didn't want to marry her, he didn't want to send her back to a father whose eyes were filled with hatred and disgust, except the failed attempt at hiding it when he was selling her off, like a piece of property. "—marriage is something to be cherished, even if it isn't what you want. I'm just thankful I managed to find my Gracia before she was married off, and I'm incredible thankful that she chose to marry me instead of some other suitor. I mean—"

"Hughes!" He interrupted, glaring at his closest friend with a scowl twisting on his lips. Hughes froze, before smirking and shrugging, settling down into the seat. Roy inhaled softly; it was going to be a long ride to Dublith. He and his personal team were the only ones to know about the Elric brothers' last remaining family resided there, and they weren't even his technical family. After the accident, he had taken both of the boys to their supposed aunt, but when he'd arrived, he found they looked nothing like family to him. Still, after being begged to keep the accident a secret, he blatantly ignored the fact that they had no parents to care for them and let the Curtis' to have custody when need be. That, and Roy had knighted them under the king's command, gaining them an income and so called determination while they searched to find the answer to the accident.

"Anyways, with Gracia pregnant, this might be my last year as a knight. I really don't enjoy fighting enough for it to be influential." His words were like a slap to the face to Roy, his head shooting up so fast that he swore he heard a bone in his neck pop from stress. Hughes offered him an apologetic smile and shrug before turning to look outside of the carriage window. Silence hung over their heads like an angry storm cloud, ready to pour and soak him through and through, and as much as Mustang hated the rain, he felt that it portrayed his mood accurately. "I want to be a kind and doting father for my kid, no matter what the cost."

"What if it's a girl?" Roy grumbled unhappily, sinking lower and lower in his seat. Hughes frowned, falling deep into thought, occasionally opening his mouth to pitch in a silent idea before shutting it in confusion. Now he really wished Hawkeye had taken him up to ride with him in the carriage; had it not been so late when they'd left Central, he would have taken his own horse. Yet the day had been grueling and sleep had evaded him ever since the move to the capitol. Even Hawkeye had claimed he ride in the carriage instead of his stallion, afraid he might fall asleep and promptly fall off of his horse.

After riding through the dark most of the night, the first rays of morning light were beginning to show through the carriage windows. He perked almost instantly when he spotted his trusted team leading them into the town of Dublith; Havoc and Breda were having a few words of a playful argument that had been going on since Roy could remember while Fuery and Falman both looked as if they were about to pass out on the backs of their mares. Even his best friend looked tired through the cracks of her stoic façade as she rode on the back of her dark stallion, with his betrothed riding alongside of her on the back of Hughes' horse.

The town was already bustling to life, more than he could have ever done had he lived in a town that required the utmost concentration of commerce. He was thankful that they'd finally arrived and that it seemed to be completely safe, with no arguments of any sort. It was a happy town. Not that he came by often; it was too far south in his district that had been given to him when he'd gained Knighthood under Grumman and too little of a town for a check-up. Breaths of fog kept the little place protected and out of sight, like a white blanket in the depths of night. The brightest of autumn's goldenrod flowers sprouted up between the cracks in the cobble, and the farmers seemed all too eager to sell their year's profits for a wad of Amestrian money.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of the butcher shop he knew to be the Curtis' home. With a smirk, he spotted the two horses that belonged to the knights. Without hesitation, he slid on his gloves. "You think there will be trouble?" Hughes asked, watching him curiously.

"Not necessarily. But knowing him and his brother…." Roy shrugged cautiously as he opened the carriage door and stepping into the sunshine. His back ached from sitting still for so long. No matter how much he rode from place to place, he would never be used to it. He stretched, spotting Havoc helping Kaitlyn off of her horse, before taking their place behind him. Hawkeye took her spot beside him, her bow attached tightly to her hip. Finally, as everyone on his team and Kaitlyn settled into their spot, he walked forward and knocked on the door, the smirk lacing his lips smug.

The door opened hesitantly and he nearly fell backwards on his heels, the same stunning green eyes that wrecked his nightmares meeting his own.

"Sir Mustang?"


	18. Chapter 18

Alyvia watched as the man's black obsidian eyes widened to the size of gold coins in surprise. His breathing went from controlled, to shaky, until he desperately tore his gaze away to the shorter blonde woman by his side. Dammit, she'd have to get used to the fact that so many people thought she was dead. "It certainly has been a while." She said, trying to keep her voice from straining. She needed to be strong, especially around such an important knight and mage. He was so much taller than her though, and her ego and confidence was crushed like a bug under a peasant's shoe.

He was still speechless until the woman by his side spoke up. "Lady Alyvia, we all assumed the worst," She stuck a calloused hand out, her short blonde hair pulled up in a tight knot on the back of her neck. Was she Mustang's betrothed? As quickly as the thought came, she almost scoffed. Mustang wouldn't settle down until his life or position was threatened by it. This woman would be no exception.

Before Alyvia could shake her hand, the curtain to the back room and Alphonse appeared, in well-fitting dark clothes and a rested look on his face. "Good morning, Alphonse," She said, before the dark force of Sir Mustang pressed past her and entered without acceptance. She heard the woman sigh under her breath and smiled, unable to help herself. Maybe this woman really could be his betrothed; she certainly seemed to know his mannerisms well enough to be annoyed by them. As the other men and woman poured into the front of the meat shop, she noticed the sad gaze on the girl's face. She couldn't have been any older than her by a year or so, but she looked so much more depressed. Alyvia tucked her hands in the skirt Izumi had lent her, unable to question it for the moment. "It's already turning out to be a wonderful day," She said to the girl, nudging her softly with her elbow as she tried to break her from her trance. The dark haired girl smiled weakly and nodded before returning to a silent state, her shoulders slouched.

"Where's your brother?" Mustang's deep booming voice echoed through the front room as Alyvia left the shy girl's side and made her way to where Alphonse was standing. If she hadn't known Alphonse all that well, from the few weeks they had known each other, she would have easily thought he was afraid. Yet under the innocent shield he used to protect himself was a hardened soldier with thoughtful eyes, strategic and ready in case something was to arise. Alyvia stood beside him, chewing on the inside of her lip, spotting the gloves in Sir Mustang's hands. Of course he wore them here—his precious gloves were his most prized possession.

"He's still sleeping." Al said, crossing his arms. "We've been on the move for a good week or so." She spotted the dark haired girl come to stand beside the blond woman, while the others stood, waiting to pounce should something bad happen. She hadn't met them before, but then again, the last time she had even seen Sir Mustang, she had been no older than six, and he had been a studious but tempered student. There was a low grunt from the Iron Knight, snapping her train of thought into pieces. Alyvia doubted that Alphonse would attack them without Ed's help, doubted he would attack them at all. It went against his entire personality.

For a long, tense moment, silence filled the small shop before Mustang hung his head. "With the woman who is supposed to be dead?" He asked through his teeth, his jaw clenched. The blond woman touched his shoulder and almost instantly he relaxed. Alyvia noticed the cocoa brown of her eyes, uncommon with such rich blond hair. She seemed so familiar, and yet she was different at the same time. Maybe it was the shortened hair, but Alyvia felt as if she had met the woman at least once in the span of her lifetime. Roy's hiss at the end of his words brought her out of her thoughts—she really should be paying more attention when the topic was of her—and Alphonse sighed in exhaustion. Even he looked tired, after two long days of rest. He needed just as much sleep as she did.

"There was no evidence that she was dead, am I correct?" Al asked, favoring one side of his legs to lean nearer to her, his protective manor smooth and calm, even in the presence of his superior. Alyvia cleared her throat, wishing he wouldn't stand so close. It was enough that she had to know that his intentions towards her were interested, but it was harder to face him when he openly showed it around guests. "She's alive and we were protecting her, like we were supposed to."

…Supposed too?

"What?" She questioned, glancing up at him in confusion. Both the Knight of Iron and Mustang visibly flinched, Al's eyes going wider than before while Roy groaned aloud; it must have been a very important secret, because they both looked as if they were to be lynched. Alyvia didn't realize how tight her hands were on her skirt until she heard the softest rip and she cursed allowed. "Dammit! Why isn't anyone telling me anything?" She shouted, glaring at two of them and the group of men behind Mustang. She knew she was a woman, and that it wasn't particularly her place to shout at men, but she had a right to know when things were going on behind her back _about her_.

"What's going on?" Edward's sleepy sounding voice called as he pushed the curtain away and spotted the disheveled group. His golden eyes instantly narrowed when he saw her and the others, especially Mustang. "What the hell do you want?" He grumbled under his breath, just audible for Alyvia to hear it. She would have smiled had she not been so vividly angry, to where she wanted to rip her apron into pieces and take the horse that the Elrics had stolen from the Devil's Nest and leave while she could. She didn't care if Edward constantly warned her about waiting for adventure to find her, she didn't care if he rotted in a hole and died. She hated them all. Alphonse, with his trying and strategic eyes that no one would ever think to hide his secrets. Edward with his sarcastic charm and idiotic sense of humor. Mustang for pestering them about her family's death and bringing up that damn sadness she thought had faded with Izumi's help. And that stupid dark haired girl for looking like she was about to cry for whatever damn reason. Did she lose her family? Did she feel the same pain Alyvia felt? She didn't care that she was being utterly selfish. She wanted Jon back; he was the only one who knew how she felt and who actually _cared_.

Alyvia didn't realize she was crying until the hot tears poured down her cheeks and the dark haired girl's hand was on her shoulder. Hurt, she ripped the hand off and stormed behind the curtain, into the room Izumi had loaned her and falling onto the bed that had been hers for on two days. Her body rippled with sobs; she was so stupid and selfish and if those stupid knights hadn't come into her life, would it have been any different? Would she have been married to Claude by now, under his watchful chestnut gaze, stuck with the thought of forever being stuck in a home where she was like a prisoner? Would she have felt it better or worse for herself even after her dreams of adventure had been crushed under his boot? Would her brother still be alive? The pillow was soaked with her tears by now, and there was no sign that she would stop any time soon.

She felt a hand on her shoulder once more and wanted to scream at whoever was there to back off, to leave and to never return, that she needed to cry and vent her frustration and depression out on the pillow, but trying to speak only made her voice crack in grief. The warmth of the hand was sincere; large, but not masculine. Her sobs ceased to anguished sniffles and she glanced up at the person who had tried comforting her to the best of her abilities. "It's okay," The dark haired girl whispered. "Crying is okay." The poor thing looked as if she wanted to cry herself, but wouldn't show any weakness behind a tight lipped façade. Her own blue eyes were filled with a certain grief, different from her own, but she still continued to smile anyways. "I'm Kaitlyn, by the way."

Alyvia tried to speak, but couldn't. Her shoulders were shaking too bad and when Kaitlyn offered her arms out, she fell into them, sobbing against the cloth on the girl's shoulder. She was shaking more than before, her sniffles turning to anguished shrieks. But the girl was right; crying made her feel better about the entire thing. Keeping her emotions bottled up was what was slowly killing her, tearing her from the inside and chewing its way to her brain until she was a puddle of emotions, lying dead in the middle of the pool.

After her crying spell was over, she not only felt emotionally drained, but physically at well. Kaitlyn had stayed with her until Mustang had come to the door and explained that he was going into town, and that she was willing to come if she wanted. Kaitlyn had politely accepted, but there was a hesitance in her voice, a restraint, before she stood and followed him out of the house. A while later, Izumi had brought her a mug of dark coffee, something her father had never let her have. It was warm, and made her feel a great amount better, and she enjoyed it quite a lot. She'd slept once she'd finished, exhausted from her early morning tears.

When she had awoken, the littlest man that had been with Mustang's squad was sitting beside the door with his nose buried into a book on secret codes. He was too deep in thought to notice she was awake until she asked him what his name was, to which he promptly replied, "Kain Fuery, milady," before returning to silence. The house was still quite, making her wonder just how long she had slept. Asking for Edward and Alphonse was awkward, but it had to be done. "Still in town, milady." Kain had answered, before the silence in the room was so palpable she could slice it into thin shreds with her brother's knife had she wanted to.

She'd kicked off the sheets and headed towards the kitchen. Breakfast had been ignored after her emotional state, and the only sustenance she had had was the thick coffee that had warmed her up and made her sniffles disappear. Izumi was cooking supper that looked like a feast for the multitude of guests she had (whom she didn't look too happy to receive, she noticed) and the scents of the finest meats and potatoes filled her nose. Her mouth watered as Izumi spotted her, a smile on her face, no less sympathetic than when they had first met. "Hungry?" She questioned.

Alyvia didn't even have to answer when Izumi handed her three slices of freshly sizzled bacon. She was thankful that the men were gone so that she didn't have to eat it slowly and precisely; she couldn't control her massive bites as the bacon scalded her tongue and left swelling little bumps in her mouth. She didn't care. She ate it hungrily, thankful for the warmth.

The loud steps of men filled the entrance of the shop as she finished her last piece of bacon, wiping off her hands on her apron and standing up straighter. The golden haired Knight of Darkness appeared with loafs of bread longer than his arms, setting them onto the counter where Izumi was cooking and giving his second mother a smile. His gaze met Alyvia's and, for a moment, the smile hesitated before he gave it to her weakly. There was another long tense moment as the others poured in, laughter ringing up as Sig helped carry in the rest of the supplies gathered in town. It seemed as if they'd had a good time, much to her surprise, as she sunk into a seat in the table. Fuery appeared from her room, looking positively exhausted, while the others settled into seats around the table.

Al sat down across from her, his smile drowsy but warm. It seemed as if he had had a good time (he looked much happier than he had before he left), his eyes on the food as Izumi began setting the table. Ed started walking towards the seat beside his brother as he tried to sit down before Al stood, the confusion instantaneously coming across his features. His younger brother pulled out a seat for Kaitlyn, Alyvia noticed with a small smirk, leaving Elric without a seat in his comfort zone.

It wouldn't have bothered her as much as it did when Edward found his spot beside her, settling in with a small scowl on his face. He looked tired, more tired than his brother did. Dark bags hung under his eyes and his movements were slow, reserved. He truly appeared as if he had been through a world of hurt for the past few weeks, all accented with a pink scar lingered just above his brow, hidden by his golden eyebrows. His golden eyes met hers and she nearly jumped, caught from staring. His scowl lifted for a minute before he turned away from the entire group and faced his plate.


	19. Chapter 19

Alphonse shuddered in anticipation, standing outside of the doorway, watching as Havoc smoked his thick cigarette, his friend's gaze searching for any intruders while the others slept. One of Colonel Mustang's finest knights in the service, he saw the sword hanging at the blonde man's belt, long and thick as he protected the butchers with his life. After a month of settling in at Izumi's butcher shop, waiting for Lady Alyvia to heal so they could return to the outside world, an early winter had settled in on the small town of Dublith. It was late, and cold, as the winter dew covering the ground slowly turned to frost as he watched. "Good evening, Havoc." Alphonse finally said, stepping forward onto the thick cobblestone and walking towards the man standing guard at the gates, his boots clunking loudly.

His old friend smiled at him in between puffs of his cigarette, and Al pondered that smoking was the reason that the older knight wasn't freezing in only his uniform while he had layers of thick coats Izumi had given him. "Bit late even for you, Knight of Iron." His friend said, putting his hand on his hip with a wider smile. "What's a kid like you doing up so late?"

Though Alphonse wasn't as sensitive about his age and height as his brother was, it still felt cruel to be picked on and called a kid when he had defeated just as many soldiers in battle. He pulled his tight lipped smile on and stared at his gloves, trying not to let it affect him. Kid. He was still a kid in the eyes of this guy and the rest of the military, most likely. "M'here to relieve you for watch," He said as a whip of icy wind sent shudders down his spine. He was going to freeze out here without another jacket, but he tried to ignore that too. He was Alphonse Elric, the Knight of Iron, knighted at the age of fifteen with his brother. He would not let a bit of wind take him mind off of members of the household, still snug under their sheets and warm and—

Havoc tipped his head. "Better get some rest 'fore I freeze, huh?" He said, and Al smiled. So even Roy's strongest knight had a weakness to the freezing weather. That cheered him up more than it should have. As the man finished his cigarette and let the thinly rolled drug fall into the frosted grass, Alphonse settled into the alertness he had long forgotten. How long had it been since he had kept watch under Roy? How long had it been since they'd been back home for at least a night or two, just to sleep in their old beds at Pinako's home? Alphonse realized that, as his life grew more and more hectic, he lost track of time more than he would like. He hated not having a strategy or a plan that wasn't messed up by factors. He liked being rigorous and orderly.

He settled against the fence, trying to keep himself from falling asleep. That was another thing he missed; a good night sleep with his brother and Lady Alyvia around was almost impossible. The lady had nightmares almost every night, where she would cry out begging for her oldest brother, begging for her mother, both of which he knew were long gone. As for Ed, well, his brother snored. Whenever Al woke to Lady Alyvia's strangled cries, he would never fall back asleep easily because of his brother's obnoxious snores. It was torturous traveling with them.

And he knew his catering to Lady Alyvia's needs was getting him nowhere. She was more focused on what was going on around her—just like Ed, he might add—than falling in love and marrying someone because of their status. It was a shame that Ed was already betrothed to Winry. He knew his brother would have courted Alyvia had he not been so attached to the thought of one woman and one woman only. Maybe if Winry came along with them on their adventures his brother would be happier, more polite to everyone around him. But he wasn't sure Lady Alyvia and Winry would get along.

The sound of a door creaking open snapped him out of his thoughts and caused his hand to fly instantly to the sword haltered at his hip. His gaze watched as a shadow moved before he spotted the thick dark curls of Lady Kaitlyn, Colonel Mustang's beautiful betrothed. She was covered in thick clothing, furs on her shoulders and arms while her thin nightdress was covered by what looked like Mustang's pants. Alphonse felt his heart stop momentarily before the dull throb of never being able to have her restarted it and made him even more upset. "You should be in bed," He said softly as she stepped down the stairs cautiously, trying not to trip over the length of Mustang's uniform and walking on the cobblestones with the slight clips of her fur boots.

"I couldn't sleep," She said as she met him, tucking a curly hair been her ear, her petite hand bare in the middle of the night. Alphonse quickly shed his leather gloves and handed them to her with a shy smile. "O-oh, you didn't have to—"But he wouldn't let her resist. She could freeze to death outside in this cold weather, and he would swear on his life to protect her. He had…_fallen_… for her, he believed. No longer did he think Lady Alyvia was perfect (he had noticed the slight upturn of her nose and her thin lips, but also her reckless personality that clashed with his own). He had taken time out of his daily schedule when he could to learn from Lady Kaitlyn, and learn he had. He learned that she had been from an abusive father, who liked to punish her whenever he could because she had killed her mother during childbirth. He learned that she loved the color of the forests during summer and that she preferred satin over silk. He learned that she had a very loud personality when she wasn't around anyone else but him, and that she loved children more than anything. She often talked about kids with a smile on her face, but then her smile would fall when she realized that she would have to have them with Mustang.

Alphonse settled back into his post nervously. "Why couldn't you sleep?" He asked, trying to make small talk in order to get his mind off of the thoughts that he would never be able to hold her unless something happened to Roy. He noticed the distant look in her eyes, almost sad, almost scared, before it was replaced by a smile that he knew was blatantly fake. Curse her and her ability to hide how she truly felt. If there was one thing he knew, it was that hiding behind a mask was completely ridiculous, even if he still did it anyways. Hiding to protect the ones you love was the hardest part of growing up.

"Alyvia had a nightmare and was so shaken that she had trouble falling back asleep. By the time she did, however, I was already fully awake." Her curls bounced and bundled as she spoke, sliding on his gloves so that her fingers wouldn't freeze. "I suppose it's a good thing you're awake, though. At least I have a friend to talk to."

Alphonse didn't answer immediately. Of course, she could only call him her friend. An acquaintance, a pal, a companion… anything else would suggest feelings that she couldn't show because of Roy. Stupid Mustang, having a royal name even though he came from anything but. He'd gotten lucky by becoming betrothed to such a perfect woman. "Right, of course." He said with a protected smile, even though he felt like his heart had been trampled by a thousand battle horses. His shoulders slumped forward no matter what he did to stop them. He wasn't sure whether he could watch her go and get married to Mustang.

Kaitlyn must have seen something in his demeanor—the slumped shoulders, the weak answer—because she knelt in front of him ever so slightly, her thick fur boots moving the frost underneath of his feet the closer she got to him. His heart was singing with a thunderous heartbeat as he narrowed his eyes, unsure of whether to feel intimidated and scared by her sudden actions or incredibly excited that she was only inches away from his lips, inches away from his body and mid together. He wondered whether or not this was on purpose; to tease him would be an awfully cruel trick. But the blank look on her face, the slight quiver of her lips, and the way her eyes were hooded did everything in their absolute knowledge to push those thoughts of betrayal and misunderstanding away.

For a moment, he couldn't hear anything. There was no sound in the entire world other than the slow thud of his heart slamming against his chest. Her lips started moving towards his, her hand reaching out and clasping his fur jacket to pull him closer, until he felt everything in the entire world. Happiness shone from the pit of his heart as her lips delved deeper on his, tracing the outline of them with her tongue. He was kissing her. He was kissing a betrothed woman, and he was _loving_ it. His fingers found the soft skin on her cheek, cradling it like a newborn lamb and pulling her closer.

After what seemed like an eternity of having one of the most intimate parts of their bodies explored by the other, she pulled away. Her face was littered with the same stoic misery she seemed to have whenever she was around Mustang and the others. Alphonse knew that what had happened between them was something they would never speak of again, something that never existed between them to the others. As she walked back towards the house with the depressed look on her face, Alphonse cursed under his breath at the thought of how much he had adored the entirety of it, and how much he had hurt her.


	20. Chapter 20

Red wine from the countries far to the West filled his mug to the brim, the finest he had ever been offered. He could smell the strength from leaning back so very far away, a tangy but also brutal scent he knew would wreck him in an instant. He felt the smile growing on his lips as the pretty, half-naked woman serving him walked away with a sway to her hips, and he reached over to grab the mug with his right hand. He needed to be wrecked tonight; if not by the wine, then by the woman whose bare chest would be hanging over him, with a dainty grin that hid her rotting teeth.

He would have already been long drunk had he not come to the whorehouse with a bright intention on his mind. A pact, one that should have come from the Catalina man and his plain looking daughter, was still on the table, and the dark, long haired negotiator sat beside him, ignoring the brewed ale in front of him-Claude would find time to drink that too. A pact, which would gain him the quickest way to king, where he could have all the prettiest women and darkest wine and finest foods that he wanted. He wanted that now, his patience already holding thin from the thought of having to wait for his own title.

The negotiator, who had remained silent the entire time the women had served him, turned to face the incredibly delectable woman by his side to whisper something. Already he'd been told to keep his hands off of her, but at any right chance, Claude would lunge and devour her body bit by bit, starting with the red tattoo nestled right above her breasts. The negotiator moved more suddenly, and the woman was hidden from his view. With a curse under his breath, he turned his attention to the other sight at the table; a fat man who seemingly couldn't fill his stomach enough. Already he had torn through an entire turkey glazed with gravy, and was on a large mutton leg. The glutton.

The negotiator had sworn to him when they'd met in an alleyway that there would be more to join them, but he wasn't so sure anymore. Still, the man named Envy had promised him a gift he couldn't reject; the chance for the throne, and for revenge against the bloody Catalina girl who had rejected his advances as if she were too good for anything. And then, when he'd been so drunk that she had actually appeared pretty in his eyes, she'd thrown a candle onto the clothes he'd borrowed from her rich father and burned him to the core. A bitch that couldn't control her own actions is what she was.

Still, with the money he'd managed to salvage from the burning vault, he'd been able to get the medical attention he needed to heal the burns. His face had been preserved, something he would forever be thankful for, but the rest of him was scarred beyond max. For a month he had spent healing and, though he still wasn't the same health wise, his intentions were more than need be. A ranking, higher than most. Money, women, sex, oh, he was greedy. His eyes moved to the petite little girl who was attending to another customer, her hips leaning over and shivering at the winter breeze that lifted her skirt. He felt his lower body stiffening with anticipation.

"So," Envy started, his voice pitchy. The attention of the two others caught Claude's gaze and he sighed grumpily. Two more minutes and he could have scheduled another appointment and left to wreck the waitress. But, duty called. He relaxed with a large gulp of his drink, staring at the dark haired man with a hazy gaze. Ooh, so this wine was slow moving. He liked that. It gave him more time to make rational decisions. "Our brother, the poor old man, will never live to see the greatest king in history, it seems."

Ah, that was right. Envy's 'brother' was the king himself, or so he'd told Claude. Claude hoped he wasn't lying. He really hated being lied to… led on…. Stupid girl. Stupid Catalina. He pushed his mug closer and swallowed a deep gulp, then another, before slamming it back onto the table, the stray droplets falling onto his hands and making them sticky. Gods, he couldn't wait for that change for revenge, to snap her neck with a simple twist of the hands. Or maybe he would burn her, so that she could feel the same blood curdling pain he felt as the fire tore at his skin, desperate for the taste of blood. "Shame." He slurred. So the wine wasn't so slow working? He didn't care now. The more he drank, the thirstier he grew.

"We only need one thing from you." The devilishly beautiful woman said, staring at her fingernails as if the proposition was nothing of true importance. Her voice, like honey to his ears and mind, lulled his mind, the wine matching nothing that her voice could do to his body. He felt his pants tighten around his aching lower abdomen at the thought of watching her squirm underneath him, like a puppet that moved and breathed and fucked like a traditional whore. He frowned as she moved forward, her wavy black hair hiding his view of her luscious chest. "We know you're quite familiar with the eldest Elric boy, am I wrong?"

Wrong? How could she ever be wrong? "Nah," He said, trying to peek around to catch the smallest sight of that red tattoo on her chest. "Nah, we know each other quite well." The kid had saved the bitch when she'd been attacked by his idiot subordinates. The woman smiled and slipped back in her chair, and he nearly groaned watching her chest bounce, rubbing his aching lower half.

"Lust," Envy grumbled, rolling his eyes, seemingly disgusted. What, did the guy not fall that way? Was it because of his so called 'sister' that he didn't think she was beautiful? Either way, Claude didn't care. The waitress he'd been watching before Lust had appeared returned with that same bottle of wine. She wasn't near as pretty and petite as she had seemed before. Her nose was too big, and her breasts didn't sway when she walked. She was not what he wanted anymore. "We need the Elric boy. If you can get him, you can get anyone, and the crown will be yours the minute we have him in our hands. That, and the Catalina girl you despise so much will be vulnerable, and you can torture her for doing what she did to you over and over and over again.

"Sure. Sure." The wine was getting to his head and slamming him into a painful numbness. The scars on his body began to tingle like his hands, and Gods, he just needed to jump the waitress before he said anything else. "I'll get your Elric boy. Might take me a while to find him." The waitress seemed to realize that the meeting was coming to a close, because she hadn't left the table and her hands were slowly going down his chest, making the scars on his body tingle even more, though this time with agonizing delight. "Give me a time an' a place, and your stupid Knight of Fullmetal will be in your hands."

"Excellent." Envy said, standing as the little waitress' fingers began going lower, finding the button on his pants. Claude's grin hitched at the sound of it. "We'll be in contact, Mr. Franz." Before Claude could even think about giving a reply, the three of them had stood in sync and were walking out of the door, as small hands were about to give him release.


End file.
